


A Woman of Letters (Getting a Feel for Sam Winchester)

by MrsWhozeewhatsis (OxfordCommaLover)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Porn, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Kidnapping, Psychic Abilities, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:17:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 43
Words: 70,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OxfordCommaLover/pseuds/MrsWhozeewhatsis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've just opened an occult bookstore in Lebanon, Kansas, when you fall for a tall, handsome customer...literally. You soon find out that there's more to the world than you ever suspected, including you. Discovering your heritage puts you directly in a witch's crosshairs, though, so the Winchesters offer to take you in and teach you how to protect yourself. As you discover your own family history with the supernatural and your own hidden talents, you can't help but wish a certain brother was as excited about your interest as you are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after season 10 ended, but before season 11, so it's canon-divergent after season 10. I have no clue what THE DARKNESS will be, so I don't even address it here. If you came for the smut, you'll have a bit of a wait, and the really good stuff doesn't happen until the Epilogue. This started out as me just wanting to give Sam some fluff, but instead I made him angsty as hell, and for that, I apologize. He refused to talk about his angst, so nobody could tell him what a great guy he is. Dean, on the other hand, wouldn't shut up, oddly enough. Anyway, this fic fought getting written every step of the way. I've rewritten parts multiple times and still don't like them, but I'm done. If you actually like this, let me know with likes and comments! If you don't like it, still let me know! I have another fic in mind that I'm starting on next, also a Sam fic (primarily), so any feedback given here could influence that one!

_You_

The first time he walked into your store, you literally fell into his arms. You were on top of your small stepladder, which you had carefully placed just outside the radius of the open door, you thought, trying to straighten a sign on top of the bookshelf by the door. You leaned towards the door, stretching as far as you could to reach the sign, when the door opened and hit the ladder. The ladder wobbled to the right, you wobbled to the left, the ladder went down, and you were suddenly safe in his arms. You looked up at him in surprise, and your cheeks flushed when you saw his face.

The moment when he held you seemed to last forever, but he never tired. Being a little on the heavy side, not to mention taller than most women, you hadn’t been picked up by anyone since you were a kid. In fact, the last time someone had jokingly told you to sit in Santa’s lap at a party, you had felt so uncomfortable, you hadn’t actually sat down; you just hovered. But this man just held you like you were nothing, giving you the most dazzling smile with dimples you had ever seen. You stared up at him, noting the long, brown hair before getting drawn into his eyes. Were they brown? Or blue? Or both? You felt your face flush, and you covered it with your hands.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I thought the ladder was far enough away from the door to keep that from happening!” You pulled your hands away from your face. “Are you all right?” You felt the deep rumble of his chuckle from his chest before you heard it, and your face flushed even more.

“It’s okay! It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have opened the door without looking, first.” He was still holding you, gazing at you with those beautiful eyes, and those dimples. Gosh, those dimples. His smile was wide and warm, and he smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and something else you couldn’t place. Suddenly, you were very aware that you were staring at him, and he was still holding you. Apparently, he came to the same realization, because just then he put you down carefully, steadying you before stepping away. You straightened yourself out, pushing some hair out of your face and tugging on your shirt a little.

“Well, thanks for catching me! I’m just glad I didn’t knock you over in the process!” You walked over to where the ladder had landed and picked it back up. Standing next to him, you looked up and realized exactly how tall he was. At 5’11”, there weren’t many people in the world you looked up to, but he had at least 5 inches over you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you shushed it while you tried to gather your thoughts.

“Maybe I could help you do whatever it was you were trying to do up there?” He was smiling again, and your heart skipped another beat. You pointed to the sign you were trying to straighten, and he easily climbed up the ladder and fixed it. You took a deep breath, tried not to admire his ass, failed, and tried to hide your face as you mumbled your thanks, grabbed the ladder, and put it away behind the counter. Once you had yourself settled, you faced him again with a smile.

“Let’s start over. Hi! Welcome to Bowen’s books. I’m Y/N. What can I help you with, today?” The man smiled again and approached the counter.

“Well, I saw the star in your window, and I was wondering if you sell grains of paradise seeds or yarrow flowers?” You pushed aside the way his deep voice rumbled through you to concentrate on his words. You frowned.

“Sorry, no. I don’t know what either of those are. I’ve got crystals and oils and wind chimes, but not flowers or anything like that.” You tried to hide your disappointment in the loss of yet another sale. He was at least the third customer to come in looking things you had never heard of, and he was now sporting the same confused look as all of the others. You were confused, too. You had never heard of the things people were asking for, and you suddenly wondered whether you were missing something big in the occult world. Your theology, philosophy, and religion classes in college had covered Wicca and all other belief systems that your store was supposed to cater to, so what was out there that needed herbs and flowers you’d never heard of? Your attention was brought back to the handsome customer when he waved a hand.

“It’s no big deal. I just figured it never hurts to ask, right?” He gave you another warm smile that effectively emptied your brain of coherent thought. “I’ll just look around, then.”

As he walked away into the stacks, you admired him from behind for a moment before mentally smacking yourself silly for gawking. _What are you doing?? Acting like a teenager in heat, that’s what!_ You felt the blood rush to your face and you turned around in case he looked back and caught you blushing. You couldn’t help trying to figure him out, though. Canvas jacket, plaid shirt underneath, jeans, and work boots all said blue collar working man to you. Plus, the callouses and scars on his hands told you he was no stranger to manual labor. You pushed away the thought of how strong he must be to have caught you and held you for as long as he did. But the way he was looking over the books struck you as someone who was comfortable in a library. And what kind of manual labor uses flowers and herbs? Maybe he likes to cook in his spare time and they were ingredients in a recipe? Flowers? In food? You shook your head at the puzzle.

He spent almost twenty minutes carefully looking over each and every book in your stacks, as if he was mentally cataloguing them for future reference. As he finished his careful inspection of the store, he grabbed a few pieces of fulgurite from the crystals display and put them on the counter. As you rang him up and bagged the pieces, you caught him looking at the locked display of books behind the counter.

“Are those books behind the counter also for sale? There are a couple there I’d like to purchase, if they are.” He smiled as he pointed out the special display.

“Sorry, those are family heirlooms. They belonged to my great uncle, and some of them were passed down to him from his father and grandfather. A couple of them might even be older than that, I’m not sure. I could never sell them, though. Uncle Lloyd always told me they were my legacy.” The customer seemed to perk up at your phrasing as his eyes flew to yours.

“Your legacy?” You looked fondly as the ancient tomes while you spoke.

“Yeah. I never really understood what he meant by that. I mean, they’re just books, and not even good books. I’ve read them all, and they are the _most_ boring horror stories ever. They’re more like journals from Dr. Frankenstein than Stephen King, if you know what I mean. But, they’re family to me, and you keep family, no matter what.” You shrugged, and tore your eyes away from the display to return to your customer. He was leaning over the counter, inspecting the spines as best he could from his distance. You felt warm from his closeness, and took a step back so he wouldn’t hear your heart pound.

“A lot of them also have the Aquarian Star on them.” He was almost mumbling to himself, but he was close enough to you that you could hear him.

“Yeah. My family seemed to use it like a crest, I swear. It’s on everything, even my uncle’s personal journals. That’s why I put it on the window of the shop. He had a shop like this when I was growing up, and it was on his window, too.” He stood up and peered at you for a moment while you spoke, then stared at the books again. He took a breath, then seemed to make a decision, and looked you in the eye.

“And he never told you what it meant?” He searched your face while you searched his, wondering what he was talking about.

“I know it’s a protective symbol, like crosses and pentacles, if that’s what you mean?” You shook your head slightly and watched his face closely as he responded. He seemed to be satisfied with your answer, smiling and nodding as he dug into his wallet for cash to pay for his purchases.

“Yeah. It’s not as well-known as some other symbols, though, so I was surprised to see it in your window.”

“How come you know so much about it?” You almost blushed at how almost confrontational you must have sounded, but manage to keep your calm as you handed him his change.

“Kind of like you, I guess. It’s my legacy, too.” He smiled one last time and then turned and walked out of the store.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sam_

As he walked into the bunker from the garage, thoughts of the woman in the shop floating through his head, Sam heard Dean yelling from the library.

“You better have pie with you to make up for me doing research while you were having fun in town all afternoon!” Sam sighed as he dumped bags of groceries on the counter in the kitchen.

“It wasn’t fun, Dean, it was a supply run, but yes, I got your pie.” Sam started putting away the groceries as Dean rounded the corner. Dean found his pie, grabbed a fork, and sat down at the table with the first bite already in his mouth. As Sam finished putting everything away, Dean paused his chewing.

“What took you so long, anyway? I expected you back, like, an hour ago.” Dean inhaled another bite while Sam sat down with a couple of beers.

“A new occult bookstore opened up in town with the Aquarian Star painted in the window. Big, too. Not like regular hunters’ shops. Like two feet tall, smack in the middle of the window, with the name of the store printed around it. I figured it was worth checking out.” He decided not to mention that he’d actually spent most of his time in the store checking out the owner, instead. Sam took a long swallow of his beer while he watched Dean’s face.

“Aquarian Star? You mean the thing that’s on every door, book, and file folder in this bunker?” Sam nodded. Dean took a long swallow of his beer. “Huh. I guess it would be nice to have a shop close by to pick up spell ingredients. Devil’s shoestring can be a bitch to find, sometimes.” Dean finished his pie and was about to get up to dispose of his trash when Sam spoke.

“It would be nice, if the shop owner actually knew what devil’s shoestring is, but I doubt she does.” Sam smirked at Dean while Dean sat down again and looked confused.

“She’s got hunter signs in her window, but doesn’t sell spell ingredients?” Sam shook his head.

“Nope. I asked her for grains of paradise seeds and yarrow flowers, and she had no idea what they were.” Dean’s mouth was open while he processed this, but Sam interrupted him before he could speak. “And get this, she’s got a whole collection of books and journals that have belonged to her family for generations, all with the Aquarian Star on them.” Dean’s eyes widened. “Her great uncle told her they’re her _legacy_.” Sam watched Dean’s eyebrows go up. Dean quirked his head questioningly at Sam, and Sam just nodded, with his own eyebrows raised. They both took a deep breath simultaneously, took a long drink from their beer, and then exhaled slowly. Dean was the first to break the silence.

“So she has no idea? No one ever mentioned the Men of Letters to her?” Sam shook his head.

“She read all of the books and journals and said they were the most boring horror stories she’d ever read.” Considering their recent brush with the Frankenstein family, Sam chose not to mention the shop owner’s comment. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

“I can see where she’d think that.” He took a swig from his beer. “She read all about what’s really out there, and still doesn’t suspect?” Sam shrugged.

“Who knows what might be in those particular books and journals. They could be studies the Men of Letters rejected. I mean, think of some of the things we’ve found around here. Wasn’t there a study about gender issues in werewolves or something? Who would really believe a werewolf was real based on just that?” Dean chuckled again and shook his head.

“All right. I see your point,” Dean said. Sam took another swallow of beer while he thought.

“That might be a problem, though. I get the feeling I wasn’t the first hunter to walk into her store thinking she sold to hunters.” Dean’s smile faded quickly. “And if she’s truly a legacy, then she has a claim on everything in this bunker the same as we do.” Sam watched Dean’s face change from concerned to horrified.

“Oh, no! We’re not dragging a civilian into this!” Sam shook his head to calm his brother.

“I don’t think we should, either, but it’s something we need to keep in mind. As long as she’s got that symbol on her shop window, Dean, she’s going to attract the wrong kind of attention. Eventually, she’s going to find out the truth, and we need to be prepared for whatever that might mean.” Dean slumped down in his chair and Sam followed.

“There’s got to be a way to get her to take down the star without telling her what it means.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face.

“I don’t know, Dean. She thinks of it as her family crest. I don’t know how to get her to stop using it without explaining why.” Sam picked at the label on his almost empty beer bottle.

“So, if we tell her, we risk getting her involved. If we don’t tell her, we risk her getting involved, anyway. This sucks, Sam.” Dean finished his beer and got up to grab more bottles for both of them.

“Yeah, Dean. It does.”

“Is she at least hot?” Sam gave his brother a withering look. Dean shrugged his shoulders and gave Sam an innocent face. “Hey. What can I say? It’s been a while!” Dean gave a wide smile as Sam rolled his eyes.

“She’s not your type, Dean.” Sam left it at that, hoping his brother wouldn’t push it. He had been entranced from the moment she fell into his arms, and was sure he’d made a fool of himself by not putting her down right away. The only thing that had gotten his attention away from her was the display of books behind the counter. Sam looked up to see Dean studying him.

“If you say so, Sammy.” Dean shook his head and smiled as he got up to dispose of his trash.


	3. Chapter 3

_You_

The rest of the day, between customers, was spent daydreaming about the handsome stranger who had literally swept you off your feet. You tried to be productive, filling displays and stocking shelves, but after you had to restock an item you had put in the wrong place for the third time, you gave up. Sitting at your counter during a quiet hour, you contemplated your store.

When you were very little, your great-uncle had had a store just like it. You had spent your summers and after-school hours “helping out” Uncle Lloyd in the store while your parents worked, and you had loved that store. The smell of the books, the pretty crystals and wind chimes, and the incense burning had all calmed you and made you smile. In the years you had spent in the store, you had read almost every single book your uncle had in stock, learning about spirits and auras, world religions, and homeopathic healing. When your parents died, Uncle Lloyd took you in, sold the shop, and became the town librarian. You had missed the shop, and after he died a few years ago, you decided to open one of your own, in his memory.

Behind your counter, you kept all of the old books and journals Uncle Lloyd had left to you in a locked glass display case, next to pictures of your family. Your eyes settled on the picture of Uncle Lloyd at your high school graduation. Uncle Lloyd had been the oldest and loneliest “parent” at the ceremony, since he had been your last living relative after your parents died. Living with him had been tough on both of you for a few years. He quickly had to learn about punk rock and boy bands, makeup and “womanly needs,” and how to be a stable influence on a grief-stricken teenager. You had to learn to live with the man everyone thought was the town lunatic, who almost always said no to every request to go out and have fun, but who loved you fiercely, and told you so every night. There were fights. Lots of fights. Eventually, you had realized how much he had given up for you, and you stopped fighting him. Going away to college had helped, too.

You looked down at your wrist, at the charm bracelet Uncle Lloyd had given you after your parents died. He had been so happy when you went to college to study religions and philosophy. He had tried to teach you things like signs and sigils when you first lived with him, but you weren’t interested. Eventually, he had given up. When you took it back up in college, he hadn’t said anything, but you saw the happiness in his eyes. After he died, you tried reading his books, but they were seriously boring. You thought his journals would be more interesting, but they were all in a shorthand you couldn’t decipher. So, your family heirlooms, your legacy, sat in a locked display case at your new shop. They were a tribute to him, and to your family, since they couldn’t be here to see it.

Thinking about the books, your mind was drawn back to the handsome customer. He had said he was actually interested in buying some of them! Why on earth would he want to buy them? The titles on the spines were in small enough print you didn’t even think they could be read from in front of the counter. All you could see from that far away was the Aquarian Star on each book.

Just as you were about to seriously question the man’s interest, the bell over your door rang announcing a customer. Your heart sank when it was just a hipster with pink and purple hair looking for incense.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sam_

The next day, Sam dug through the Men of Letters membership records. The name on the store was Bowen, and before he got too excited about this woman, he wanted to be sure he was right. He started with the most recent records, those kept in 1958 before Abaddon wiped almost everyone out. As he skimmed the pages, he found what he was looking for.

_January 15 th, 1958 – Man of Letters Ted Bowen to take a 6-month sabbatical from the order due to the birth of his child, Peter. Will return to duties no later than July 1st, 1958. (Note: Younger brother and fellow legacy, Lloyd Bowen, will reach maturity 12/9/1958, and will begin training under his father, Albert Bowen, and his brother, Ted, in the new year.)_

_…_

_June 20 th, 1958 – Man of Letters Albert Bowen deceased. Natural causes. (Note: Ted Bowen still scheduled to return to duty no later than July 1st.)_

Sam dug around through his own files and found his notes on Abaddon’s attack, further confirming his theory. Ted Bowen was one of the men killed by Abaddon in August, 1958. Putting the files away, he headed back to the library and opened up his laptop. Loading the public records web site, he found that Peter Bowen was born January 14, 1958, married Paula Bowen in 1983, had a daughter, Y/N Bowen in 1985, and died in a car crash with his wife in 1998. Sam considered the woman in the shop, her gorgeous smile, her kind eyes, and her lilting voice. She would have been 13 when her parents died, and apparently her great uncle had taken her in. Sam imagined her uncle in 1958, losing both his father and his brother within a month, and wondered if Lloyd knew the circumstances around his brother’s death. Considering the sigils he had taught his niece, chances are that he did. Sam shook his head sadly.

Sam was jerked out of his thoughts by heavy footfalls coming down the hall. Dean appeared in the doorway to the library a moment later.

“Find anything, yet, about ‘The Darkness’ we unleashed?” Dean settled into a chair next to Sam, pushed a beer towards his brother, and put his feet up on the table. Sam tried not to look guilty. It had been a week since Dean had lost the Mark of Cain and “The Darkness” was unleashed, and absolutely nothing had happened. Columns of black smoke broke out of the ground, formed one giant cloud, washed over the land looking like a tornado on steroids, and then promptly dissipated. The worst damage anywhere was similar to a severe thunderstorm, and the supernatural world had been unusually quiet since then. No demonic signs, no freaky deaths, no weird missing persons reports. It was extremely unnerving, to say the least. After they found Cas and Crowley back at the warehouse, fixing Cas was the priority, but Crowley had been surprisingly helpful with that. Well, in exchange for not locking him up _with_ Cas until the spell was broken. Since then, Sam and Dean both had been hitting the books and the internet, calling hunter friends in their network, and generally brainstorming trying to figure out what was going to happen before it happened. Not to mention Rowena was off plotting who-knows-what with the Book of the Damned and the codex, and Metatron was also who-knows-where doing who-knows-what with the demon tablet. Investigating a woman he met in a shop was not high on anyone’s priority list, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

“Umm, no.” Sam kept his eyes on his laptop, hoping Dean wouldn’t push the issue.

“Confirmed that the shop owner is a Woman of Letters, yet?” Sam’s eyes flew up to Dean’s and he knew his guilt was written all over his face.

“What? No. We have plenty of other things to worry about besides a woman in a shop in town.” Sam huffed and put his eyes back on his laptop.

“Then it must be porn you’re looking at, because I’ve never seen you look at research like that, no matter how much I know it turns you on.” Dean smirked and Sam felt his cheeks get hot. Sam sighed.

“Fine. You got me. I dug into the membership records and found her grandfather. He was one of the men Abaddon killed. She’s definitely a legacy.” Sam sighed.

“Why do you think she doesn’t know? I mean, you said her great uncle obviously knew, so why didn’t he teach her?” Dean took a drink of his beer and shook his head.

“According to the records, her uncle was 17 when Abaddon hit. He was scheduled to begin his training in January of ’59. My guess is, he knew what the Men of Letters was, but not much more. Anything he learned after ’58, he learned on his own, like Dad. Maybe after she lost her parents he decided to get out of the life? You know, make sure she didn’t lose her last remaining family member and end up in the system.”

“She lost her parents young?” Sam saw the sympathy on his brother’s face.

“Yeah. She would have been 13. Records say car crash. Couldn’t find any news articles about it, though. It appears she went to live with her uncle after that.” Sam peered at his screen. “And he died in late 2010. Looks like his death is still open, though. Coroner left the case open as undetermined. Could be foul play, could be an accident. The record says cause of death is ‘idiopathic myocardial infarction.’ Well, we know what that means.”

“Yeah, the coroner was stumped. Think it could have been our kind of thing?” Dean looked slightly dismayed at the idea, but the comment shot a dagger of ice into Sam’s heart.

“Oh, God. 2010. The Apocalypse. If he was a Men of Letters legacy, and someone knew that, you don’t think he died because someone wanted to drag him back into the life, do you?” Sam felt the guilt claw at his chest. Could Y/N have lost her last remaining family because of him?

Sam saw Dean consider the possibility and then push it away.

“Naw, man. There was lots of funky stuff going down back then that wasn’t related. It could have been a ghost just scaring him to death, for all we know. Let’s not take more on ourselves than we already have. We have enough to be guilty about, already.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Anyway, I came in here for a reason. Hank just called me and says he’s got a cursed object, he’s got it safely tucked away in a curse box, but he’s got nowhere safe to store it. He wanted to know if we could keep it here. I figure we have plenty of space, and there’s no place safer, so why not? I told him one of us will be at the bar down the street in a couple of hours and he can drop it off with us there. I figured you might want to go visit a certain shop just down the street from the bar, so I thought I’d take over research for a while.” Dean tossed the car keys on the table and flashed Sam a satisfied grin, obviously proud of himself for being so magnanimous as to offer to do research. Sam huffed.

“Dean, you hate research. What do you really want?” Dean put a hand over his chest dramatically and feigned offense.

“How could you possibly think that I would want anything more than to give my baby brother a chance to see the girl of his dreams again? You know, I’m offended. Here, I’m trying to do something nice, and you’re throwing it in my face! I guess I’ll just have to go meet Hank and check out this shop, myself!” Dean threw his hands up in the air and then reached for the car keys. Sam snatched the keys before Dean could reach them and got up. Dean smirked and sat back in his chair again.

“All right, Dean. I’ll be back in a few hours.” Sam grabbed his coat and headed toward the bunker’s garage. As he was almost out of earshot, he heard Dean yell.

“Oh, and bring back some pie! We’re all out of pie!” Sam shook his head as he got into the Impala.


	5. Chapter 5

_You_

You were officially having your first rush since you opened the shop, and you heaved a sigh of relief in between customers. Opening a small business was always risky, but an occult bookstore was even riskier. You figured your uncle had closed his shop so he could have a steady income once he had to support you, and you didn’t blame him. You had missed his shop, but the change had made him more stable, which was what you had desperately needed.

As more customers wandered in, you noticed a scruffy-looking man enter dressed in work boots, torn jeans, dirty flannel, and an old army jacket. He wasn’t your typical customer, but seeing him made something click in the back of your mind. You were too busy with answering questions and ringing up purchases to think about it, though. Part of you kept an eye on him as he wandered around the store, taking his time looking at books and wind chimes that just didn’t seem his style. As the rush finally ended, he grabbed a couple of pieces of fulgurite and headed to the counter.

“I was wondering if you might have some other items in stock in the back for a friend willing to pay cash? I’ve got some, uh, special items I’m in need of, if you know what I mean.”

You looked at the guy and sighed. Did your uncle have to deal with these kinds of lunatics when he had his shop? You stopped the thought there, remembering how many people thought your uncle was, in fact, the local lunatic.

“I’m sorry, sir, but everything I have for sale is already out on display. I can maybe look into ordering something for you if it’s in one of my catalogs and I can call you when it comes in?” You pulled out a pile of catalogs from under the counter and looked up at the man. He had that same look of confusion on his face as every other weird customer that had come in here. Like they just couldn’t believe you didn’t carry things other than what was on your shelves!

“No, ma’am, I’m not talking about things you order in catalogs. Is the shop owner here, by chance?”

“I am the shop owner, and like I said, I only have what you see on the shelves. There’s no back room with more stock; this is it.” The man huffed and gave you a frustrated look like you just weren’t understanding him. Your stomach twisted nervously as you watched him. He backed away while the only other customer in the store approached the counter and paid for their items. Once they were out the door, he came back to the counter and tried again.

“Look, you’ve got the star in your window, so you know who I am and what I’m looking for. I’m willing to pay cash, so you’re not going to get scammed, here. I’m completely out of devils’ shoestring and angel feathers. Do you have any in stock or not?”

You stared at the man with eyes wide and mouth slack. How many different times did you have to tell him? And what did the star in your window have to do with any of it? Your thoughts felt scattered at his agitation, and you took a second to compose yourself before replying. As you began to speak, the bell over your door rang again, indicating another customer was coming in.

“Like I told you before, sir, I don’t have anything that isn’t on display and I have no idea what you’re talking about. What is devil’s shoestring? And angel feathers?” You shook your head and saw the man’s face turn red. Just as he was about to open his mouth, your new customer opened his.

You looked up, and up some more, and there was your handsome customer from yesterday. He grabbed the shoulder of the other man so he faced him, away from you.

“Hank, man, stop. She’s a civilian. She really doesn’t have anything here.” You stared at the tall man in confusion, and just watched the exchange.

“But, Sam, the star,” the shorter man gestured toward the shop window, “and, you know, _here_ , near you. How can she not…?” His voice trailed off as he looked at the taller man, _Sam_ , then looked back at you, and shook his head in confusion. Then he seemed horrified and started sputtering. Sam turned him towards the door, putting an arm around his shoulders. You heard what he said next, but just barely.

“C’mon, man. Call Dean, tell him what happened here, tell him what you need and he’ll see if we have any we can spare and meet you at the bar.” Hank threw another worried glance at you over his shoulder and then let Sam push him out the door. As the door closed, Sam sighed, then turned around to face you. “I bet you have a lot of questions. Can we talk?” Now that the other man was gone and Sam was facing you, you felt your breathing ease up a bit. You nodded dumbly, then sat down on your stool behind the counter. “Um, I hate to cost you business, but can we close up shop for a little while and do this somewhere a little more comfortable? This might take a while.”

“Sure. We can go in the back room. I have some coffee sitting back there, if you don’t mind it being strong enough to melt a spoon.” You were still feeling a little dazed and you felt words coming out of your mouth with little to no feeling of control over them. Sam nodded, and you locked the door, put the closed sign up, and led him back to your back room.

In the back room, which was just big enough for a hot plate, sink, mini fridge, and a table for two, Sam sat down and you poured coffee for both of you. Though he seemed uneasy, something about him calmed you. Your brain kept shooting off alarm bells, but you felt your body relaxing, anyway. After you had settled down and had a sip, Sam finally spoke.

“My name’s Sam Winchester.” He held out a hand for you to shake, which you stared at for a moment before reaching for it with your own.

“Y/N Bowen. I’d say nice to meet you, but I think I’ll wait until after you tell me whatever it is you’re about to tell me.” You paused, looking down at your cup for a moment. “That man, and you, and at least one of the other customers that came in here asking for weird stuff, all mentioned the star in the window. That star is more than just something my family thought was pretty, isn’t it?” Sam looked at you sadly and sighed.

“Yes. It is. Y//N, your grandfather, and mine, were members of a group called the Men of Letters. The Aquarian Star was their crest. They investigated, and documented everything about the supernatural. Everything you read about in your uncle’s books is real, and they were kind of the librarians of the supernatural world. They worked with hunters, who take a more active role.” Sam cleared his throat and looked down into his coffee cup. “Hunters go after anything that, well, goes bump in the night, and take care of it. The Men of Letters worked with hunters, supplying information, tools, and other supplies the hunters needed to do their jobs. Having that star in your window tells hunters that you know what they are and you sell what they need.”

Sam paused, watching your face as you processed everything he told you. You took a deep breath and let everything he said wash over you. Your uncle’s books weren’t hard to read, just boring, really, though they talked about vampires and werewolves and ghosts. Well, until you factored in the idea that they were _real_. Suddenly, everything you had read seemed far less boring.

“So, vampires, werewolves, demons…they’re all real?” You gazed at Sam with eyes wide. Sam nodded.

“Did your uncle’s books talk about anything else?” Sam’s voice was quiet and gentle, but his words were still alarming. Your eyes flew to his.

“You mean, there’s more??” You felt your jaw hang slack. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Oh yeah. Lots more. Ghosts, angels, djinn, kitsune, gods, you name it. It’s all out there.” Sam paused, watching you think.

“And these Men of Letters, they, what, catalogued and experimented on them? And my grandfather was one of them?” Sam nodded. “How do you know that?”

“I went through the records and found some Bowens mentioned. I did a records search and matched the Bowens in the Men of Letters records to you.”

Just then, you heard a noise from the shop. Sam jumped up, reached behind his back, and pulled out a gun from the waistband of his pants. As he approached the door to the front of the shop, he motioned for you to stay behind him and stay quiet. Your brain fired more warning shots at you, screaming about a gun casually hidden in a waistband, but you told your brain to shut up. As he flung open the door, gun held steady in his hands, you saw a well-dressed man with a beard and short, dark hair standing in the open doorway. He smirked at Sam, and you watched Sam relax just a fraction.

“Crowley? What are you doing here?” You stayed behind Sam, peeking around him just enough to see the smug look on the newcomer’s face.

“Oh, c’mon, Moose. Put the gun down. You know it’s not going to hurt me, so why bother?” Sam sighed and put the gun back in the waistband of his pants, but kept you behind him.

“What do you want, Crowley? Why are you here?” You heard Sam huff angrily.

“Grab the girl, and get her back to your Batcave, pronto, or you’ll both be yesterday’s news.” Crowley turned to walk back towards the shop door, but stopped when Sam spoke again.

“What’s going on, Crowley? How do I know this isn’t some kind of trap?” Crowley stopped and turned back to Sam.

“Have you ever heard the phrase, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ Well, you’re in luck, today, Moose, because my mother didn’t appreciate your little bondage scene in the warehouse. Apparently whips and chains actually don’t excite her, after all. And now, she has the Book of the Damned, the codex to read it, and she wants you _dead_. So, as much as I might dislike you, I want her dead more, which means I need you alive. She’s been watching you, waiting for you to leave the protection of your little underground clubhouse, and knows about this one, here. She was going to just take this one and trade her for you, but, no, you’re here, too. You being here is just making her job easy, so stop standing there like a simpering idiot, _grab the girl, and get the hell out of here!!_ ”

You saw Crowley’s eyes turn red with small tendrils of red smoke appearing to wisp around them, and you gasped in fear. Crowley turned around and headed back to the front of the store, stopping by the door. Suddenly, your hand was engulfed in Sam’s, you quickly grabbed your purse, and you followed him to the front of the store. Just as you expected them to open the door, you saw Sam look at the books in the display case. Quickly, he ran behind the counter, broke the glass of the case, and grabbed as many books as he could hold. You picked up an almost empty box of pillar candles, dumped it out, and pushed it towards Sam. He dumped the books in the box, grabbed the pictures from the wall, and you both headed for the door. Crowley went out the door first, looking both ways before stepping out of the way. As you followed Sam to a beautiful black classic car, you heard Crowley’s voice behind you.

“Hello, Mother. Fancy meeting you here. What brings you to this end of nowhere?”

As you turned your head to see who Crowley was talking to, your vision was blinded by the light of a massive explosion. You felt yourself lifted off the ground and sent flying towards Sam’s car. Pain bloomed in the back of your head before darkness overtook you.


	6. Chapter 6

_Sam_

As he was throwing the box of books into the back seat of the Impala, Sam heard Crowley toss his opening salvo at Rowena. Sam turned his head just time to see Y/N’s shop explode, and Y/N go flying through the air. A piece of debris bounced off the back of Y/N’s head just as she landed on the ground at his feet. Sam scooped Y/N off the ground, tossed her in the front seat of the car, and pushed her to the passenger side as he slid behind the wheel. The car started easily, but Sam still dropped a string of curses as he sped away from the scene.

When he was a block away, Sam’s cell phone rang. Sam picked it up, giving Y/N a worried glance.

“Dean?”

“Sammy! What the hell was that? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, but Y/N is hurt. It’s Rowena. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at the bar with Hank, and suddenly we heard a big explosion and everyone is headed down the street towards where you said Y/N’s shop was. Hank gave me the box, I gave him what he needed, and we were just having a beer and catching up.”

“Good. Get back to the bunker ASAP. I’ll explain when we get there.”

“Okay.”

Sam hung up his phone and shoved it back into his jacket pocket. He looked over at Y/N and tried to assess her injuries without taking his eyes off the road for too long. He didn’t see any blood, so that was good news. He sent up a prayer to Cas while he drove, in between glances over her form.

When he pulled into the bunker, he looked to see if Dean had beat him back, but there was still an empty spot in the garage. Sam pulled Y/N out of the car and carried her to one of the empty bedrooms. He laid her on the bed, took off her shoes, and then grabbed a blanket from his own room to cover her. He looked over her as best he could, finding only minor scrapes on her arms and legs, but a nasty bump on the back of her head. He found no blood, and looking in her eyes, he didn’t think she had a concussion. As he sat down on the desk chair to watch over her, he heard Dean’s footfalls in the hallway and ran out to meet him. Sam shut the door most of the way and motioned to Dean to stay quiet.

“What the hell happened out there, Sammy? One minute you’re meeting Hank and hitting on a girl, the next minute I’m calming Hank down with our last two angel feathers and a shot of whiskey before telling him to get the hell out of town if he wants to avoid the fallout!”

“I got to the shop and Hank was pushing Y/N to sell him stuff, like we figured was going to happen sooner or later. I pulled him back, told him to call you and I’d handle Y/N. I sat her down, and was giving her the whole ‘monsters are real’ talk, telling her about the Men of Letters, when Crowley showed up.”

“Crowley??” Dean’s eyes widened and his eyebrows hit the ceiling. “What the hell was Crowley doing there?”

“Apparently, saving our lives.” Dean took a step back in surprise. “Yeah, that was my reaction, too. He said something about ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend,’ told us Rowena had planned on using Y/N to get to me, but since I was there, she was just going to kill us both, and we had to run. So, we ran, and Crowley slowed her down enough for us to get out of there. As we were getting away, Y/N’s shop exploded. She’s got a nasty bump on her head, but otherwise she seems okay. She’s still out cold, though.”

“Crap, Sammy, I’m starting to think that dating you really is a death wish!” Dean smirked and Sam gave him his best bitch face.

“Dean, we barely know each other. Now, shut it before she wakes up and hears you.” Dean pointed at the door and gave Sam a questioning look. Sam nodded grimly, and watched Dean peek his head into the room. Dean stuck his head in for a moment, then stepped back out.

“Damn, Sammy! She’s hot! Well, what I can see of her is hot. Why’d you say she’s not my type?” Dean smirked, earning himself another bitch face from Sam.

“She owns a book store, Dean, and you hate to read.” Dean shrugged at Sam’s words and flashed a grin.

“Hell, for her, I might consider changing my ways.” Dean chuckled. Sam grimaced.

“I’m going to hang out in there until she comes around and make sure she’s okay.” Sam peeked in the room and saw that Y/N hadn’t moved. Dean turned to go, but Sam stopped him. “Hey, there’s a bunch of books and journals in the back of the car. Can you bring them in here? They’re hers, so they should be with her. Oh, and can you bring some aspirin and some water? She’s going to have a headache.” Dean nodded and headed down the hallway.

Sam went back into the room and sat down on the chair, staring at Y/N. Dean was right. She was pretty. Part of him wanted to sit on the bed beside her instead of in the chair, but he kept his distance. As near as he could tell, he represented everything bad that had ever happened in her life. She lost family because of the Men of Letters and the supernatural, and now she lost her business, which was definitely his fault. If he hadn’t have walked into her store, Rowena wouldn’t have targeted her. Even if his hands itched to push the hair out of her face, he needed to stay away from her. Dean may have joked, but it was the truth. The lifespan of the women around him was mercilessly short. She would be much better off far away from him once all of this was over.


	7. Chapter 7

_You_

As you slowly edged toward consciousness, you noticed a comforting smell. Something about it just made you feel safe and warm. You snuggled down into the warmth for a moment, and then you felt the sharp pain in your head. _The shop exploded. Sam._ You opened your eyes in a panic and saw Sam sitting on a chair next to you. He smiled gently.

“Hey there. How are you feeling?” Sam made no move towards you, which made you sad for a moment. Concern was marked in every line of his body, though. You sat up and let the blanket over you fall to your lap. The comforting smell left, and you pulled the blanket up to your nose again for a moment. There it was. You let the blanket fall back to your lap again, and did a mental inventory of yourself.

“I’ve got a bitch of a headache and what feels like a few bumps and bruises. What happened?”

“Your shop exploded, and you got hit in the head with some debris. I didn’t see any blood, so I’m hoping it’s nothing major. Mind if I check you out more now that you’re awake?” You nodded, and responded to all of Sam’s questions while he looked into your eyes. As he gently checked you out, you felt the warmth from his hands everywhere he touched you, and you tried not to stare into his eyes. Green. They were definitely green today. Or maybe hazel. After a few minutes he declared you probably okay with a smile.

“Probably okay, huh?” You smirked at him, and he grinned and chuckled. His smile made you feel all warm and tingly and your heart skipped a beat. _This man is going to be dangerous to my cardiac health if he keeps that up!_

Just then, the door opened, and another wildly attractive man walked in with the box of books Sam had hauled out of your shop earlier. He was also tall, though not as tall as Sam, with lighter brown hair, cut much shorter than Sam’s shaggy locks, and striking green eyes that you suspected got him out of a lot of trouble with women. He smiled when he saw you sitting up, and offered you his hand to shake after he put the box down.

“Hey! You’re up! I’m Dean, Sammy’s brother.” You shook his hand and smiled at Dean, then made a space for him to sit on the bed. He sat down next to you, handed you a bottle of water and some aspirin, and looked you over with concern. “How are you feeling? Sam told me you got hit.”

“I guess I feel as good as can be expected. I should thank you guys for saving me and taking care of me.” You gave both men a warm smile, and they both shook their heads and waved you off. “In that case, then, I have some questions, if you guys don’t mind.” Both men nodded. “Where am I?”

“This is the Men of Letters bunker. It’s protected from pretty much everything, so it’s the safest place on the planet for you.” Sam gave you a reassuring smile as he spoke. “Since you’re a legacy, too, you are welcome to stay here until this all blows over. This place is as much yours as it is ours.” You nodded thoughtfully.

“You said the Men of Letters were experts on the supernatural, and my grandfather was a member, which is how I’m a legacy.” Both men nodded. “Okay, next question. My uncle obviously knew about all this, or he wouldn’t have had the books. Why wasn’t he a member?” Sam and Dean looked at each other and sighed.

“The Men of Letters, your grandfather included, were wiped out by a demon named Abaddon in 1958. Your uncle was set to begin his training in January of 1959.” Sam was watching you carefully, but you weren’t sure why.

“A demon?” You took a deep breath and spoke softly. “So much for the building fire I heard about.” You paused for a moment, processing everything. Facts started colliding in your head. “My uncle knew… his shop. He must have sold to hunters.” The brothers looked puzzled. “I decided to open a shop that was just like the shop my uncle had when I was a kid. He closed it after my parents died and I went to live with him. I think he closed it to have a steady income and better hours because he had to raise me.” Dean and Sam looked at each other. “What?”

Dean spoke quietly. “My guess is that your uncle decided to get out of the life as best he could to protect you. Even just selling to hunters can attract attention you don’t want when you have a family to protect.” Dean grimaced and looked down, not wanting to meet your eyes. “Hunters don’t get the apple pie life. Anyone we care about is at risk because of what we do. My bet is that your uncle didn’t want you to lose the only family you had left, or he didn’t want to lose you because of what he was doing. He was lucky. It sounds like he got out.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face. You looked back and forth between the brothers and saw so much pain that you could swear you felt it. Your stomach knotted and you felt tears prick your eyes. You put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, but resisted the urge that hit you to hug him.

“Fast forward to a few weeks ago, and I open my shop with the star on my window, not knowing what I’m doing. Hunters start coming by, including Sam, here. Then, Crowley’s mother decides to use me as a hostage to get to Sam, because he met me once, and because she thinks I’m involved because of the star. Crowley saves us, which is apparently unexpected for some reason, and here I am, sitting in an underground bunker for my own protection. Is that about right?” Both men nodded. “Good. Next question. What is Crowley, because the red eyes were a little freaky?” Both men looked a little uncomfortable.

“Crowley is a demon, the King of Hell,” Sam said. You were sure your eyes just completely bugged out.

“The King of Hell?? You guys are on first name basis with the freaking King of Hell?” Both men cleared their throats and nodded. “And he’s _not_ who we’re worried about right now?” Both men shook their heads. “And the King of Hell has a _mother_??” Both men nodded again. “And right now she’s pissed at Sam.” You looked at Sam and he shifted uncomfortably, but nodded. “Because, as Crowley put it, ‘whips and chains don’t actually excite her.’” You watched Sam’s face turn pink while Dean smirked and chuckled. You looked back and forth between the men. “Do I want to know what you did with the whips and chains to piss off the Queen Mum?” You were trying to lighten the mood, but it fell flat. Sam hung his head and refused to look at you. You looked at Dean, and his face was stony.

“The short story is, Sammy here decided to chain her up to make sure she kept her part of a deal they had. Obviously, her getting out of those chains and running around free was… unexpected. Right, Sam?” Dean looked annoyed at Sam. Sam lifted his head and gave Dean the fiercest bitch face you had ever seen.

“Of course, Dean.” Sam huffed. Both men looked unhappy, and seemed unwilling to talk further about the issue, so you moved on.

“So, what happens, now?” You looked at both men while they looked at each other. Dean finally turned to you.

“You stay here until we find a way to take out Rowena. That’s the Queen Mum. Until then, we teach you how to defend yourself and stay under the radar so you can go back to your life.” Dean smiled as he looked at you softly. You looked down at your hands and bit your lip.

“Huh. I don’t really have much of a life to go back to, now that the shop’s gone.” Dean put a hand over yours.

“Well, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, no matter what you decide to do.” Sam’s eyes flew to Dean’s, and you thought he looked almost alarmed.

“Dean….” Sam glared at Dean. “In the long run, she’s safer living her life out there, away from all of this.”

Dean glared back. “You’re the one who pointed out that she’s a legacy, Sam. She has just as much right to be here as we do. It’s her decision.” You watched Sam’s face harden. You felt the tension coming off Sam in waves and you almost winced. He took a breath, but when Dean didn’t back down, he swallowed hard and spoke softly, but firmly.

“Like it was Lisa’s decision?” Dean’s eyes widened and his jaw went slack for a split second before his face hardened and turned red. Dean stood up quickly, stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You released the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and stared at Sam. His face was stony and his eyes were focused on his hands. Sam didn’t move, so you just watched him until you couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Sam? Who’s Lisa?” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. You saw what looked like sadness in his face, and resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.

“Like Dean said, we don’t get the apple pie life. There was a time about five years ago, when Dean gave up hunting. The why is a long story, but I… wasn’t around, and so he tried to settle down with Lisa and her son, Ben. Everything was good for them for about a year, and then I came back and dragged him away. They tried to make it work for a few months, but eventually the distance and the work pulled them apart. They broke up, but kept in touch. Dean loved Ben like he was his own. Lisa moved on, and then Crowley decided to use her against him. He sent demons to kidnap them, they killed Lisa’s new boyfriend, and Dean and I had to get them out. Lisa was hurt. Our friend, Cas, is an angel. If he hadn’t been there to heal her, she would have died. Dean decided the only way to keep them safe was to wipe all of their memories of him. Cas wiped their memories, he left, and he never looked back. He told me that day if I ever said either of their names, he’d punch me in the face. Quite frankly, I’m surprised he didn’t.” Sam glanced up at you, then went back to looking down at his hands with a huff. “He still might.”

You studied Sam’s face while you considered the parallels between you and Lisa. Both civilians. Both thought of as pawns to get to the Winchesters. Crowley was the one to take Lisa, so unless the King of Hell had grown a conscience, they’d have to take him out, too, in order for you to be safe. But Crowley saved you?

“Crowley kidnapped Lisa, Crowley is the King of Hell, you and Dean are hunters who kill evil things, yet Crowley is still alive. How does that work?” You watched a dozen different emotions pass over Sam’s face. Frustration, fear, guilt, anger, and back to frustration.

“Well, to start with, he’s hard to kill. It’s not for lack of trying. Being King of Hell makes him damn near invincible. At one point, we tried to cure him of being a demon as part of a bigger move to shut down Hell, but it would have killed me, and Dean wasn’t willing to go through with it. The almost cure made him almost human there for a while, which made him almost lose his title to an even worse demon, Abaddon. She’s the demon who killed your grandfather, and mine. In order to kill her, we had to team up with Crowley.” Sam looked up at you to see your reaction. You tried to stay neutral, but you figured he could tell you were filing away the name for future reference. “Don’t worry, Dean killed Abaddon.” You nodded at Sam and he continued. “Anyway, most recently, part of the deal I made with Rowena was that she’d do a spell for me if I killed Crowley for her. She gave me everything she thought I’d need to kill him, and it didn’t work. He could have killed me, but he didn’t.” Sam frowned. “I don’t know if that explains why he’s not dead, really. He’s usually not the baddest of the bad, just a manipulative bastard who knows how to keep us from killing him.” Sam shook his head sadly.

“It sounds to me as if, no matter what happens, Crowley will always be out there, whether we like it or not. Am I right?” Sam’s eyes met yours and he sighed, then dropped his eyes again, not answering. “And since Crowley knows about me, if I leave here to go rebuild my life, I’ll be in danger like Lisa was if he suddenly gets mad at you for something. Is that a fair assessment?” Sam looked so sad and guilty your heart almost broke.

“We would do everything we could to hide you and teach you how to protect and defend yourself. Once you’re trained and ready, you could have a good life, away from all of this. You don’t have to get sucked into this life.” Sam was almost pleading with you, now. You shook your head to clear it and got quiet.

“Wow. Um, I’m pretty sure I’ve already been sucked in, but let’s put that aside for now, anyway. I don’t think I can process those kinds of thoughts at this point. Right now, all I can think about is that I’m on the radar of both the King of Hell AND his mother, my shop is gone, monsters are real, I’m in a secret underground clubhouse for the time being, and I don’t even have so much as a change of clothing.” You sighed. “But I will agree with Dean on one thing: it’s my decision to make. It sounds like Dean learned his lesson with Lisa about taking away someone else’s choices. Now it’s your turn.” Sam was giving you such a helpless look, and you see his desperation all over his face. You could hope that he liked you enough to want to keep you away for your own good, but an insecure little voice inside your head was taunting you by saying he just didn’t want you around. You told yourself you had no reason to think he either liked you or didn’t like you and shook away the thought.

You pushed aside the blanket and stood up. Sam stood up and reached out a hand to steady you in case you needed it. You smiled up at him in thanks.

“Now, how about you show me around this place, starting with the bathroom, and then we can discuss more immediate matters like what I’m going to do for clothing and toiletries and such?” Sam smiled weakly down at you and nodded, leading you out the bedroom door.


	8. Chapter 8

_Sam_

While showing Y/N around the bunker, Sam thought about the complete turnaround he had done since Dean had decided to wipe Lisa’s memory. Back then, he thought taking the choice away from Lisa had been wrong, but now… Y/N was talking like being in the life was an option, and it was twisting him up inside. He just wanted to put his foot down, say no, and end the discussion. What had changed?

When they got to the garage, he saw Dean standing by the Impala, beer in hand, hood up, staring into the mechanics of the car. The look on Dean’s face was still murderous, and if Sam didn’t know better, he’d think the Mark was back. Sam considered apologizing to his brother, but he wasn’t sure he was sorry. Also, apologizing would involve bringing it up again, which would probably just make things worse. Sam motioned to Y/N for them to leave, but she shook her head and walked over to Dean.

Sam stayed in the doorway, so didn’t hear what was said. Y/N just walked over to Dean, took his empty hand in both of hers, and looked up at him for a moment. She said something quietly, and Dean almost seemed to melt. Dean’s face broke for a moment, then Y/N spoke again, and suddenly she was in Dean’s arms. Dean had set his beer down, wrapping both of his arms around her and tucking her head into his neck. Sam had never seen Dean warm up to someone so quickly, and watching their embrace made his chest hurt and his stomach twist. When they separated, Dean sniffed and smiled at Y/N. They had a short conversation, and then Dean put aside his beer and closed the hood on the Impala while Y/N walked over to Sam.

“Dean’s going to go out for a while, and he said you can walk me through doing some laundry so I have clean clothes in the morning. Is that okay?” Y/N smiled up at Sam and he couldn’t help but give her a smile in return.

“Sure.” Sam led her back to her room, then grabbed an old shirt of his and one of what he called the “dead guy robes,” and gave them to her. “Will this work for tonight?” Y/N nodded. After she changed out of her clothes into the shirt and robe, Sam showed her the laundry area. She surprised him by grabbing some dirty clothes from the nearby hamper and just mixing them in with her stuff. Y/N chuckled as Sam felt his face turn red when he saw his own dirty laundry in her hands.

“I did laundry for me and my uncle for years. I’m not afraid of a few pairs of boxers.” Sam tried to hide his embarrassment and wondered at the woman next to him. How could she be so comfortable in such a strange situation so quickly? Sam admired her ability to adapt.

After the laundry was started, Y/N said that she wanted to lay down, so Sam left her to it. He kept his door open in case she needed anything, and settled on his bed to read. It didn’t take long before he realized he had been reading the same page for ten minutes and still didn’t know what it said. He couldn’t get the image of her face when the explosion happened out of his mind. Not to mention the fear that struck him when he thought he’d lost her before he’d even had a chance to save her, especially since it was his fault she was in danger in the first place. Sam shook his head to clear it and decided to grab a bite to eat.

On his way to the kitchen, he noticed Y/N’s door was ajar, so he peeked in. She was sound asleep, tucked under his blanket. He took a moment to stare, then pulled his head out of the room, chiding himself. What if she woke up and saw him looking at her like a creep? Sheesh. Sam made himself a sandwich, and at the last minute, made one for Y/N, too. He took two plates back towards the bedrooms, and left one on the night stand next to her bed.

Late that night, Sam was dozing fitfully when he woke to distressed sounds coming from Y/N’s room. He walked quietly to her door, which was still open a crack, and peeked his head in. Y/N’s face was contorted in fear and her head was shaking back and forth. In her mumbling, he heard his name, and rushed toward the bed. He sat down next to her and shook her gently until her eyes flew open.

“Sam!” Her eyes were wild and he could almost hear her heartbeat. She clutched his arms, and when she seemed to realize he was real, she fell into them. Sam wrapped his arms around her, rubbing circles into her back until her breathing slowed.

“You okay?” Sam tried to look in her face, but she had buried her face in his chest.

“Better now.” Her words were muffled by his shirt. His heart ached and he continued rubbing circles into her skin. After a couple of moments, she took a deep breath and sighed. “Would you stay?” Her question was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

“Sure.” He rearranged himself and her so he could lay down next to her and still have her in his arms. He held her close, trying to soothe her as best he could, until he finally felt her relax and her breathing deepened. He fell asleep soon after she did, trying not to think about how attached he was becoming to her already.


	9. Chapter 9

_You_

When you woke up the next morning, you felt better than you had in ages. You were a little overly warm, and you slowly realized it was because you were wrapped up in Sam. He was on his back, his arm firmly around you, and one of your legs was tangled with his. Realizing that he was wearing far more clothing than you were, you felt your face flush. You were wearing only his shirt, nothing else, since everything else was in the laundry. You had considered asking if either of the men had pants that might come close to fitting you, but one look at their narrow hips and you had known better. You had curves, and there was no way your hips and butt would fit into anything they owned. So, you went without, and stayed covered in the robe. Until your nightmare. You couldn’t remember the details, only that you had been scared, and Sam was there to save you. Finding him there when you woke up had literally been a dream come true. You spent a moment enjoying the warmth radiating from the solid muscle you were surrounded by before yelling at yourself for indulging in fantasies. Really nice fantasies, now that you could feel him without three layers on, but they were still silly fantasies. Slowly, you worked to untangle your legs, and then freed the rest of yourself so you could get your robe and get up.

You found the bathroom again on your own, and the towels and supplies Sam had shown you the night before, and managed to shower and get dressed with your newly cleaned clothes. You made your way to the kitchen and found Dean nursing his coffee.

“Got any more of that, or am I on my own?” You smiled at Dean and he grinned back.

“Finally! I thought you’d sleep all day.” Dean waved at the coffee pot. “There’s more. Help yourself.” After you had your coffee and were sitting down, you felt Dean’s eyes on you. “Slept well?” When you looked at Dean, he was smirking at you like the Cheshire Cat. You felt your face flush and you hid yourself behind your coffee cup as you took a sip.

“You saw us?” You felt your ears start to warm, too, and wondered exactly how far this blush would go before it stopped.

“I saw Sam’s door was wide open, and yours wasn’t closed, so yeah, I peeked.” Dean pretended to be looking at the newspaper in his hands when you looked up at him.

“Nothing happened, I just had a nightmare.” Dean gave you a knowing look and started teasing you.

“If you say so, sweetheart.” Dean was almost giggling, now, and you smacked his arm playfully.

“Nothing happened! He just helped me sleep! I swear!” Dean was fully laughing, now, and so were you. Dean held both his hands up in surrender.

“I believe you! I believe you!” Dean winked at you and nodded, “If you say nothing happened, then I’m sure nothing happened.” Dean gave you a knowing look and then burst into laughter again when your blush somehow managed to deepen even more. You shook your head and smiled.

“You’re terrible, Dean. Just terrible.” Dean gave you his best grin and you laughed again.

Dean helped you get some lunch, and while you both ate, you discussed options for you to get clothes and other necessities. Dean thought that risking going to your apartment was the easiest way, even though Rowena would probably have the place watched. Since you had no idea what that meant, you told Dean you’d go along with whatever he decided. After you were both done eating, you did the dishes together, with you washing and him drying and putting away.

“Hey, Dean… are you going to forgive Sam for what he said yesterday?” Dean’s face went stony and his hands paused for a moment before they resumed drying the plate in his hands.

“I’m sure I will eventually, but I’m not sure today is that day.” Dean turned away from you to put away the plate, and returned your gaze when he turned back around. “It was a low blow and it was entirely uncalled for.” You washed the last dish, handed it to Dean, and dried your hands.

“Yeah, it was, and he knows it.” You sighed. “Only those who know and love you the best can dish it out like that. But even if you can’t forgive him just yet, can you at least let it rest and get past it?” Dean finished drying the dish and put it away. He hung up the towel and turned back to you with a sigh.

“I’ll try.” You smiled at him, then wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him. He returned the hug, stroking your hair and giving you a quick kiss on the head before letting you go.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sam_

Sam woke up alone in Y/N’s bed, reached over to the empty side of the bed, and felt cold sheets. He looked at the clock on the nightstand and realized he had slept later than he usually did. In fact, it was barely still morning. Sitting up, he realized he had slept better than he had in ages. As he went through his morning routine, he tried not to think about how nice it was to have Y/N curled up with him. It had been a long time since he’d shared a bed with a woman, even just for sleep. His mind drifted back… Amelia. Sam shook his head to try to clear those thoughts before they took hold. At least Amelia got out alive. She’s happy with Don, now. That’s better than most of his romantic partners. Sam purposely changed his thoughts since the head shaking had obviously failed.

After Sam was dressed he headed to the kitchen to look for food. He stopped short just inside the door when he saw Dean and Y/N hugging. Sam felt frozen until he saw them break apart, and then he was able to force his feet to move him over to the coffee pot. While he was getting his coffee, he heard Dean say something quietly to Y/N, then Dean’s heavy footfalls as he left the room. Sam sighed.

“I guess he’s still pissed at me, huh?” Sam turned to Y/N, who was leaning against the counter.

“Yeah. It was kind of a low blow, but he’ll get past it. I mean, I’ve only known him a day, but I can already tell he loves you more than he’s mad at you.” Sam felt Y/N’s words strike his heart. It had been a low blow, and he knew it. There weren’t many things Dean couldn’t find a way to joke about, but Lisa was definitely one of them. Dean had forgiven Sam for a lot over the years, though each time had been harder than the last. Sam wondered if maybe this would be the time Dean just didn’t. Sure, this was minor compared to the myriad of ways Sam had let Dean down in the past, but it could be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Sam sighed.

“We’ll see, I guess.” Y/N moved towards the door.

“We’re going to head to my apartment to grab some things I’ll need. Do you want to come along, or…?” Sam’s eyes flew to Y/N’s.

“Your apartment? Really?” Y/N nodded and shrugged.

“Dean says he’s got a plan. I didn’t ask about it.”

“I’m definitely coming. You’ll need both of us if something’s waiting for you.” Sam followed Y/N to the garage, where Dean was already in the car. Sam got in the back, leaving Y/N in the front. “Dean, what’s the plan? Head over there with hex bags and guns at the ready and shoot anything with red hair?” As Dean pulled the car out of the garage, he shook his head slowly, then pulled out his phone. Sam sighed. Obviously Dean was still pissed. He just hoped Dean got over it if things went pear-shaped.

“Crowley? I heard a rumor your mother’s got the hots for my brother. It must run in the family. I know, I know, after she’s dead we go back to trying to kill each other. Meet us at the bar. See you in ten.” Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket and pulled the Impala out onto the main road. Sam watched Y/N’s face and almost chuckled. The look of incredulity was hilarious.

“Do you have the King of Hell on speed dial?” Although she seemed surprised, there was also a small smile playing at the edges of her mouth. Dean flushed a little pink and then smirked at her. Sam watched the flirtation and wondered why he suddenly wanted to deck his brother.

“How does the song go? ‘I got friends in low places,’ right?” Dean chuckled as Y/N laughed and Sam glowered at the two of them.

“Why does the fact that the King of Hell has a cell phone surprise me? I guess I always figured there’d be magical ways of doing things like that if magic existed.” Sam was still feeling grumpy, so let Dean answer the question.

“There are, but a summoning spell takes time. Demons make phone calls using blood, but really, burner phone is just easier. If you know who you’re calling is going to pick up, it’s not worth the bloodshed, quite frankly.” Y/N shook her head in amazement.

“I have so much to learn.” Sam felt his chest get tight at the thought of Y/N having to learn anything, and sighed. The car pulled into the parking lot of the bar, and the three of them got out and walked in, finding a booth near the back. Sam made sure he sat next to Y/N, keeping her safe on the inside, while Dean went up to the bar and ordered beers for all of them. As Dean was setting down the glasses, Crowley appeared behind him.

“Hello, boys. And girl.” Dean jumped, then turned to Crowley and grimaced. Y/N tried to stifle a giggle, but failed.

“What the hell, Crowley? I thought I was past people popping up behind me like that when Cas lost his wings!” Dean sighed and slid into the booth. Crowley slid in next to him.

“Just trying to keep you on your toes. If you’re going to go up against my mother, I need you sharp. Now, tell me, why is the newest member of your little club joining us for such a high-level discussion?” Crowley turned to Y/N with a charming smile that made Sam gag. “Not that I mind being in the presence of a beautiful woman, mind you, I just know how overprotective Moose and Squirrel can be about their girlfriends.” Sam felt Y/N stiffen and put his hand on her hand to calm her. He turned to Crowley and hoped he was giving him the bitchiest of all bitch faces.

“Never mind her, Crowley. Just tell us what you know about what Rowena’s got planned,” Sam barked. Dean smirked as a waitress brought over a large, fruity drink with about four or five skewered pieces of fruit and a teeny, tiny umbrella sticking out of the top. She set the drink in front of Crowley, and he stared at it for a long moment. Sam heard Y/N work to stifle another giggle.

“I see you remembered, Dean. You make me all warm where my bathing suit goes.” Crowley rolled his eyes and took a sip of the drink from the straw with a shrug. “What I know about Rowena’s plans is very little. I was able to intercede this afternoon because I travel faster than she does. I’ve had demons watching her, but she didn’t show her hand until it was almost too late.” Crowley looked at Y/N with what almost looked like sympathy, but Sam knew better. “I’m sorry about your shop. I do hope you had insurance.” Y/N nodded and smiled at Crowley, which put Sam on edge.

“I want to thank you for saving my life, even if you couldn’t save my shop,” Y/N said, quietly. Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise and he smiled at Y/N.

“Finally! Someone who understands the value of gratitude! Keep her around, boys. She can teach you lunkheads a thing or two.” Sam huffed angrily and glared at Crowley. Crowley kept his eyes coolly on Sam, as if egging him into starting something. Dean waved a hand to interrupt the stare down.

“Back to the matter at hand, you two. If we’re going to try to take Rowena out, we have to know where she’s going to be, and we have to find something that can kill her. Right now, Y/N needs supplies from her place, so we have to figure Rowena’s got her place staked out. As for weapons, we have bullets with witch-killing brew in them for distance shooting and Molotov cocktails of the stuff for close attacks. I say, we try to kill Rowena at Y/N’s apartment. We go in, pack up as much stuff as we can, and when Rowena comes after us, we take her out. If we kill her, then Y/N goes back to her life. If we don’t kill her, then we’ll have everything she’ll need for an extended stay with us while we find something else that can kill her.” Sam listened to Dean’s plan and had to admit it wasn’t all that bad.

Crowley’s eyes nearly bugged out. “You’re going to risk this beautiful young woman’s life by trying to take out Rowena whilst getting _supplies_? Are you joking?” Sam looked at Y/N and wondered if maybe Crowley was right. He started listing in his head everything she might need, and what other ways there were to obtain them. He felt his face flush at the thought of buying her bras and panties, and found himself shifting in his seat as his mind wandered inappropriately until Dean interrupted his train of thought.

 “Look, she needs clothes, she needs personal items, and I’m sure there are other things in her apartment that she’ll want that aren’t replaceable. If what we have works, Rowena’s dead, Y/N gets to go back to her life, and everyone’s happy. If it doesn’t work, then we have a start on finding something that will work, and Y/N has what she needs for an extended stay with us. Two birds with one stone. ” The table got quiet while everyone took a long pull from their respective drinks.

“Look, it’s either this, or she borrows clothes from us,” Sam replied sarcastically. Crowley rolled his eyes and made a disgusted noise.

“If that’s your solution, Moose, it’s no wonder your relationships all end in the cemetery. They’d rather die than put up with you.” Crowley turned to Y/N and gave her a smarmy smile that made Sam cringe. “Darling, if you ever get tired of Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber here, I’d gladly keep you safe, and in a manner to which a lovely thing like yourself should be accustomed. Just because you have a 300-year old witch on your tail doesn’t mean you need to live in a hole in the ground that barely has indoor plumbing. You deserve satin sheets and chocolates on your pillow.” Sam groaned inwardly, but tried to keep his cool on the outside.

Y/N smiled and squeezed Sam’s hand. “Thank you for the offer, Crowley, but I’m fine where I am.”

Sam admired her ability to hide the nervousness she had to be feeling right now. “Crowley, just tell us. Will you help us or not?” Sam glared at Crowley and realized he was now almost crushing Y/N’s hand. He forced himself to relax his hand while he waited for Crowley’s answer.

“I can get her in and out unnoticed. We pop in, she packs, we pop out, and nobody would be the wiser. Then, once she’s out of the line of fire, you two idiots can go after Rowena on your own time.” Crowley had taken Y/N’s refusal better than Sam expected, still giving her admiring looks and smiling sweetly. Sam stopped himself from squeezing Y/N’s hand any harder.

“If you can pop her in and out, you can pop all of us in and out, Crowley.” Sam glared at the demon in front of him while Dean backed him up.

“Sam’s right. We’re not letting her out of our sight until we’re sure she’s safe. I don’t care if you saved her life yesterday, I still don’t trust you as far as I can throw you. Either we all go, or none of us go,” Dean said. Crowley pretended to be offended by Dean’s remark.

“Dean, you wound me.” Crowley shrugged and nodded his head, though. “But, I see your point. Fine, I’ll pop us in, you three pack whatever you can, and I’ll pop us back out. If we run into interference, though, you idiots better shoot first and ask questions later.” Crowley sighed deeply and overdramatically, then took a long pull from his drink. Sam looked over at Y/N to gauge her reaction to this plan. He never expected what came next.

“Crowley, thank you for everything you’re doing for me. I know you don’t have to, and you’re putting yourself on the line for me, so I want you to know that I appreciate it. And if there’s something I can do in return, let me know, and I’ll do the best I can.” Sam and Dean both jumped and started talking over each other. Crowley waved a hand and both men lost their voices, opening and closing their mouths like guppies. Sam felt panic wash over him, and he clutched at Y/N’s hand.

“What I’m sure you’re overgrown protectors are trying to say is that making such an offer to the King of Hell is never a good idea. Now, I like you, so not asking you to seal that particular agreement with a kiss pains me greatly, but I won’t. Not that it wouldn’t be fun making Moose watch. I appreciate the sentiment, though, and will someday hold you to it. In the meantime, let’s get this show on the road. I have an underworld to run.” Crowley waved his hand again and both Winchesters groaned as their voices returned. “Let’s take this outside, shall we?” Sam took a deep breath, and pushed away his worry over what Crowley might ask Y/N to do in the future. Now was not the time.

On the walk out of the bar to the parking lot, Y/N gave Sam and Dean a quick rundown of her apartment, and where they could find bags they could use for packing. By the time they were outside, they had a plan for getting as much as possible packed up as quickly as possible. When they got to the Impala, Dean handed a big bottle with a rag sticking out of the top to Sam, and then put a similar bottle into an interior pocket of his coat. When he slammed the lid of the trunk shut, Crowley snapped his fingers, and the four of them found themselves inside Y/N’s apartment.

Sam took a quick look around and wished he could spend more time looking over her things. Today was not the day, though. The plan was set in motion, and Sam grabbed bags from closets, handing them to Y/N and Dean, and then following Y/N as she grabbed items and handed them to him to pack. Dean cleaned out the bathroom, then joined them in the bedroom to pack clothes. Sam took a bag and went through the living room, grabbing pictures and photo albums and anything else that looked important. In less than ten minutes, they were done, and as Crowley raised his hand to snap his fingers, the front door banged open and a man with blood dripping down his cheeks growled at them. Crowley snapped his fingers, and he and Y/N disappeared. Sam looked around the room in shock, seeing the same flash of anger and shock on Dean’s face. What the hell?

The cursed man was advancing on the brothers, and Dean quickly shot him in the head. The man’s head flew back while he took a step back, but he didn’t fall. As he straightened out to take another step closer, Sam and Dean both put two more bullets in his brain. After standing there with a dazed look on his face for a long moment, the man finally fell. Sam did some quick math in his head to calculate the number of witch-killing bullets they had left, but didn’t get to finish before he saw Rowena’s wild red hair turning the corner as she entered the apartment. Sam started firing at Rowena while Dean pulled out his witch bomb and lit the fuse. Sam fired one, two, three, four times, and Rowena simply raised a hand, making the bullets stop just in front of her and then fall to the ground. Dean, seeing that throwing something directly at Rowena wouldn’t work, instead threw his bomb at her feet, reciting the incantation as he threw. Rowena was obscured from view by a cloud of flame and smoke. Sam held his breath while the smoke cleared, and then let it out as he saw Rowena still standing there. She looked slightly green, and was taking heaving breaths, but she was still standing. Sam felt fear rising up in his chest as he fully realized he was about to die. Rowena was standing in the doorway of the apartment, and if there was another exit, he wasn’t aware of it. Even if there was a fire escape somewhere, Rowena could throw a curse before they’d get out the window.

Sam watched Rowena raise a hand to him and Dean, and just as she began to speak, he blinked, and he and Dean were standing in the bar’s parking lot next to the Impala, Y/N, and Crowley.

“Is she dead,” Crowley asked with a smug smile on his face while Sam and Dean caught their breath.

Sam huffed, glaring daggers at Crowley. “No. She stopped the bullets before they hit her, and the witch bomb only slowed her down for a moment.” Sam watched as Dean straightened up and his face hardened in anger.

“What the hell was that all about, Crowley? Another second and we would have been witch food!” Dean took a step toward Crowley, and Crowley held up a hand, stopping Dean in his tracks. Sam suddenly saw the family resemblance between Crowley and his mother and frowned deeply.

“I figured you’d want to take a crack at Rowena, but with the lovely Y/N safely far away. I brought her to safety, then got you. Would you rather I left her with you?” Crowley had a subtle smirk on his face while he looked back and forth between the brothers. Sam felt bile rising up in his throat.

“Call me when you figure out how to kill the bitch.” Crowley snapped his fingers one more time and disappeared. 


	11. Chapter 11

_You_

Once you and the brothers had returned to the bunker and unloaded the car, they left you alone to unpack and get settled in to your room. They had questioned you about your time alone with Crowley, and you assured them he hadn’t hurt you in any way. As you emptied bags into drawers, you went over the events of the past 24 hours in your mind. Impressions and feelings flitted through you as you reviewed your talks with the brothers and with Crowley.

Your heart to heart with Dean the day before, short as it was, had made a huge impression on you. As you had approached him, you somehow knew he blamed himself for everything, he loved Lisa and Ben like he loved his brother, and losing them had been as painful for him as losing your family had been for you. When you took his hand, your heart just broke for him, and when he had hugged you, you pictured in your mind that were trying to glue broken pieces of a beautiful crystal bowl back together. Something told you that you and Dean could be close friends, if time allowed. Breakfast this morning had only reassured you of that.

Your time with Sam was different. Something about Sam just screamed warmth and safety to you. The fact that he’d been your savior both in real life and in your dream told you that. It didn’t hurt that he was easy on the eyes, too. Oh, and not to mention a wonderful sleeping partner. There was something more there, though. What you already felt with Dean was clear and easy. Sam, however, seemed like a slightly tougher nut to crack. Although you thought he liked you, especially since he came running when you cried out in the night, he did seem awfully anxious about the idea of you sticking around.

And then there was Crowley. What a dichotomy of impressions you had of him. On the one hand, he’s the freaking King of Hell, a demon, and completely malicious and untrustworthy. Your brain kept chanting that over and over again while you sat in a booth at a bar with him. _Demon, demon, demon._ But when he sat down and chatted politely with the brothers, you had a hard time seeing him hurting the Winchesters. Honestly, if he weren’t the King of Hell, or even a demon, you would have quite liked him. Up until the point where he rescued you and left the brothers alone with Rowena, that is. When you had realized what he had done, you had scolded him, which only made him smile. He had chuckled as he told you that his plan was to let the boys try to kill Rowena, while keeping you out of harm’s way, and maybe using you as a hostage in the future to keep the Winchesters on task. If they lived. Part of you had wanted to yell at him and demand he rescue the Winchesters, but part of you knew better. So, you asked him nicely.

“Please, Crowley. Please bring them back here.” You had grabbed his arm with both of your hands and looked into his eyes with your heart on your sleeve. “Please don’t leave them there alone.” Crowley had gotten a strange look on his face, then he seemed to soften towards you. His gruff, sarcastic, evil exterior melted a bit, and he had almost smiled at you. He took a deep breath, shook his head with a sigh, and snapped his fingers. As the Winchesters had appeared next to you, you had smiled at him, earning you an almost confused smile in return before his usual manner returned and he faced the two men.

The whole exchange brought up so many questions and feelings. The King of Hell saved the Winchesters simply because you said, “please.” Or, at least, that’s what it seemed like. Were demons just that rude to their king that a little polite kindness had him melting all over you? The whole thing didn’t make sense.

Late in the afternoon, you opened up the final bag of belongings and stopped in surprise. Photo albums, picture frames, and a few of your favorite books were inside. You knew you hadn’t packed these items, and you certainly wouldn’t have included them in a list of necessary supplies, though you were glad they were there, so who did? As you carefully set up the picture frames on the long shelf above the bed, Dean walked in.

“You getting all settled in okay?” Dean was smiling when you turned around. “Is there anything we missed, or anything we need to pick up at the store?”

“I’m good. Everything’s here that I can think I’d need, and more. Were you the one that packed this bag?” Dean looked at the contents and shook his head.

“Nope. The only books I would have grabbed were cookbooks.” Dean shrugged and grinned. _Sam did it. Sam thought to save the irreplaceable._ You smiled, then pulled your thoughts back to the conversation.

“Then you would have been disappointed. I’m not much of a cook. I can follow a recipe, but I don’t have the talent my mom did to just whip something up out of nothing.” Dean shrugged again.

“No biggie. We do a lot of take out around here, when I don’t feel like cooking. Sammy’s good with grilled cheese sandwiches and salads, but that’s about it. Speaking of, you okay with burgers for dinner? You’re not vegan or anything, are you?” Dean looked absolutely horrified at the prospect, making you laugh.

“Oh, no! Burgers sound great! I love a good burger, and some pie.” You grinned, and Dean’s face lit up for a moment before he gave you a serious look.

“Hey. No stealing my pie. You’ll have to get your own.” Dean shook a finger at you and you laughed.

“Then you better not leave your pie unattended!” You laughed while Dean’s face got overly serious and he cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Nobody touches my pie.” You raised your hands in surrender and he smiled. “Anyway, I’ll go stat dinner, so be ready to eat in a few.”

“Mind if I follow you? This place is like a maze. Leave me to myself, and you might never see me again!” Dean smiled and nodded, and you followed him out the door. On the way through the hallways, you considered the man next to you again. _Yes. Clear, open, and easy. As long as you don’t eat his pie._

Over dinner, you chatted with the brothers about the Men of Letters and your uncle some more. Sam and Dean both couldn’t believe you had read the books and still didn’t believe.

“Sam, I bet those books are about transgender issues in pregnant shape shifters or digestive tract anomalies in vampires or something ridiculous like that. I mean, I can believe she thought they weren’t real.” You smiled at Dean while you swallowed.

“One is about dermatitis in werewolves, and another has to do with demonic healing properties as related to poor vision and dental decay. Seriously, I thought they were some kind of alternative writing style for really boring horror stories.” Both brothers chuckled while they ate. “I was never able to read my uncle’s journals, though. They’re in some kind of shorthand. I don’t know if the Men of Letters had a secret language or what, but I could never make heads or tails out of anything he wrote. It’s definitely not English, though.” Dean waved at Sam while he spoke.

“Sam’s your man, there. He gets all nerdy about languages and old books, don’t ya, Sammy?” Sam gave Dean a solid bitch face. Dean put a hand up by his mouth as if Sam couldn’t hear him, and whispered loudly, “Dusty books in dead languages are better than porn for him.” Dean smirked while Sam cried out and threw his napkin at Dean. You giggled and tried not to stare at Sam’s face as it turned bright red. You tried to settle your face into a reassuring smile and put a hand on Sam’s arm.

“It’s okay, Sam. I owned a bookstore for a reason.” You gave him a wink, and his face somehow got even redder, but a small smile played on his lips. You found yourself staring at that smile for a moment too long, and took a swig of the beer you were drinking as you pulled your hand back. You dug back into your burger as Dean picked up the conversation again.

“I can see how those books wouldn’t convince you that the supernatural is real, but you owned an occult bookstore. If you didn’t believe in otherworldly stuff, what did you believe in?” Normally, questions about your beliefs made you uncomfortable, but coming from Dean, it seemed completely natural and safe.

“I know a lot of folks assume that an occult bookstore owner is automatically a Wiccan, or a psychic, or something like that, but I’ve always been on the skeptical side. I started the store after my uncle died because he had a store just like it before my parents died. I loved that store. I’d spend time there after school, and he put me to work during the summers. When there wasn’t much work to do, I’d read the books. I could always tell that he didn’t think much of most of the books he sold, so I took it all with a grain of salt. Astrology, spirit boards, and love potions all got disinterested sniffs from my uncle, so I laughed at the books and such and moved on. What I do believe in, at its most basic, is energy. I believe everything and everyone has energy. Some people can see it, as in auras, some people can interpret it better, like psychics, and I believe everyone can feel it, to one degree or another. Anything else I believe in stems from that.” Sam and Dean both nodded thoughtfully, and then Sam huffed with a smile.

“I’m not sure about astrology, but spirit boards and love potions are real.” Sam’s smile turned into a frown and Dean looked startled at Sam’s statement.

“Really?” You weren’t sure you wanted to make Sam tell whatever stories he was obviously referring to, but you were deathly curious.

“Sam got whammied by a love potion once. He even married her while under the influence.” Dean chuckled. “That was an interesting Vegas trip!” Dean chuckled and Sam flushed again.

“The marriage was never consummated, and we had it annulled immediately after taking care of the demon responsible,” Sam assured you quickly. Dean finished chewing a bite of his burger, and looked at Sam questioningly.

“I forget, did Pamela use spirit boards?” Sam swallowed hard and shook his head.

“Not Pamela. Another psychic I used once had one on the table, but didn’t use it.” Sam took a deep breath. “Remember just before Dad died? When you were in the coma?” A shadow passed over both of their faces and your heart ached for both of them.

“Oh, yeah,” Dean said quietly. Sam cleared his throat.

“Dean was in a coma, but I was able to talk to him with a spirit board. My guess is, if you’re not psychic, then you probably can’t control who answers when you use a spirit board, but something will answer.” You nodded.

“Speaking of spirits, what about ghosts? I mean, they’re energy, so I’ve always believed in ghosts. I’m half afraid you’re about to tell me the one thing I do believe in doesn’t exist.” You chuckled, and the brothers chuckled, too, lightening the mood.

“Yes, ghosts are real. But they’re usually not nice. The longer they hang around, the angrier and more vengeful they get. You have to salt and burn their bones, or whatever they are attached to in order to get rid of them.” Dean finished off his dinner and his explanation with a smile. “And on that note, I’m off to do some reading about how to kill a 300-year old witch in spite of the fact that she’s got her paws on the most powerful book of evil crap ever created. I cooked, you two clean, and I’ll see you all in the library later.” Dean got up and left the room, resting a hand on your shoulder as he walked behind you. You smiled up at him and covered his hand with yours for the half second it was there.

You and Sam cleaned up the dishes in a silence that was almost companionable. You felt like Sam was distracted by something, but you guessed it was the situation with Rowena, so you didn’t ask.

That night, you had another nightmare, and again, Sam was there to comfort you. As you settled into the warmth and comfort of his arms, you ignored the tiny voice inside your head telling you that this was a mistake. That someone as handsome and brave and all-around wonderful as Sam could never like someone as simple and plain as you. That feeling these feelings would only complicate what had already become a very complicated life. As you snuggled into Sam’s side, his arm firm around you and your head on his chest, you breathed in the comforting scent of Sam and felt yourself immediately falling asleep.


	12. Chapter 12

_Sam_

The second night Sam ended up sleeping in Y/N’s room, he stayed awake longer, reminding himself of all the reasons why this was a bad idea. Starting with Jess and Sarah, continuing with the hope that Y/N could someday have a normal life with a husband and kids, and ending with how distracting these feelings could be during the hunt for Rowena. That distraction alone could cost Y/N her life. Y/N made a soft noise in her sleep and Sam smiled.

But what if she could stay? _The bunker is safe. Take out Rowena, and Y/N could be relatively safe._ Sam pictured Y/N researching for hunts, cleaning up the library, cooking meals, and doing laundry. He and his brother coming home from hunts, and Y/N there to greet them with a smile and a hug. Calling Y/N for help while they were away, or even just to hear her voice. Sam tried hard not to think about Y/N falling asleep in his bed. Y/N cuddling with him every night like she was right then. Y/N waking up and touching him, kissing him….

Y/N shifted against him, sleepily tangling a leg in between his. He smoothed down her hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands beneath his fingers, then realized his boxers were getting tighter. Crap. He tried not to think of how soft and warm she felt, pressed up against him and failed. _Dead puppies. Dean eating with his mouth open. Dean hugging Y/N._

That worked.

On the one hand, it was a good thing that Dean liked Y/N. She really couldn’t stay if either one of the brothers didn’t like her. The quarters were too close to survive that.

On the other hand, if Dean liked her the way Sam was beginning to like her, then that was bad.

Dean had never liked a girl that Sam had liked. Not seriously. What would happen if they both fell for her?

Sam thought about how long it had been since Dean had been even a little happy with a woman. Lisa. And Lisa was…five years ago? Geez, time flies when you’re saving the world. Again. And again. Oh, and again. Sam pictured Dean smiling at Y/N. The flirty glances in the car. The way he watched her when she spoke.

Sam’s thoughts wandered. The way Dean used to look at Charlie when she talked. How Dean looked at Sam beside Charlie’s funeral pyre and said he wished it was Sam up there instead of Charlie. Sure, some would say that was the Mark talking. Sam was willing to admit that the Mark may have had an effect on Dean to make him say something so horrible. But Sam didn’t doubt for a moment that, even without the Mark, Dean would have still thought it. Charlie’s death was Sam’s fault. Whatever evil crap this “Darkness” rained down on them was Sam’s fault. Everything Rowena did from now on was Sam’s fault. Dean deserved something good after the past few years of never-ending crap. Dean needed something good in his life to help him get past what the Mark had made him do. Y/N could be exactly what Dean needed and deserved.

Sam’s decision was easy. If Dean liked Y/N, then he would step aside. He would keep any thoughts to himself until he saw how things played out with his brother. Dean was already flirting with her, so it wouldn’t take long for him to make a move. Once Dean and Y/N were together, Sam could move on.

Sam groaned inwardly. In five minutes, he had just sentenced Y/N to a life with his brother, trapped in an underground bunker for her own safety, instead of out in the world with a normal life, a picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog. As much as he’d love for his brother to live happily ever after, he wanted Y/N outside of the life, happy, safe, and ALIVE. Ugh.

Y/N tensed up in her sleep beside him, clutching at his shirt. He rubbed comforting circles into her back and stroked her hair until she relaxed again.

Safe. Out in the world, and safe, was the priority. If that couldn’t be done, then happily ever after with his brother. If all else failed, then maybe he could consider more nights like this one. 


	13. Chapter 13

_You_

When you woke up the next morning, you were disappointed to realize that you were alone. You had been having a really good dream of strong arms and large, warm hands on your body before you woke up to cold sheets and an empty bed. _He’s got better things to do than cuddle with you, Y/N._ When you ran into him as you came out of the bathroom, you found out where he had gone. Apparently, Sam liked to run in the mornings. When you ran into him, literally, he was soaked in sweat, wearing a tank top that showed off the muscles in his shoulders and arms, and shorts that gave you an excellent view of his legs. The shirt was stuck to him in all the right places, too, especially after you slammed into him coming around the corner. Your eyes kept traveling up and down while your mouth stumbled over apologies. Sam gave you one of his disarming smiles that made your heart flutter, and just walked around you to head to the shower. That left you just standing there, jaw slack, eyes wide, and breathing erratic. When the door to the bathroom clicked shut, you finally got your body to start moving again, and you returned to your room, shutting the door behind you.

You fell against the door with a sigh as a vision of Sam’s body danced in front of your eyes. You remembered what it felt like to be pressed against that body in bed, and felt your cheeks flush. God must have worked overtime to make such a fine specimen of manhood as Sam Winchester. After letting your thoughts return to your dream, adding in the view you had just gotten, your body started to wake up, and you felt the flush in your cheeks spread everywhere. You sat down on your bed, grabbed a book, and fanned yourself while thinking of anything but Sam Winchester.

Distracting yourself with mundane tasks, such as getting out clean clothes for the day, helped you cool down, until you met Sam coming out of the shower as you were heading in. Clad only in a towel around his waist, you weren’t sure you even said anything comprehensible as you passed by him. Even though you knew the Men of Letters bunker had copious amounts of hot water, you took the coldest shower you could stand. Once you were clean and dressed, you felt more in control of yourself, and vowed to keep it that way.

After a pleasant breakfast with Sam, thankfully minus all the sexual tension since he was wearing his usual three layers again, you both headed into the library to do some research on how to deal with Rowena. Well, Sam was going to give you a book to read about witches, and if anything made sense to you and sounded reasonable, you were to tell him. You had doubts that you would be much help, but you wanted to try.

As the two of you entered the library, you saw a strange man with messy, dark hair sitting and talking with Dean.

“Hey, Cas,” Sam said as he sat down next to Dean. Cas greeted Sam, then looked at you. Well, to say he looked at you would be putting it mildly. He peered at you with squinty eyes for a long moment, tilting his head to the side, and then relaxing with a smile. Dean decided to make the introductions.

“Cas, this is Y/N, the girl Sam sent you the message about. Y/N, this is the angel we mentioned, Castiel.” Cas stood, and you reached out a hand to shake. He took your hand, and you felt a flow of warmth spread through your body. Every muscle that had been tensed relaxed, and you felt more peaceful than you had in a long time. When the angel let go of your hand, you felt the warmth and peace fade, and you landed heavily in the chair next to his. You looked up at him, since he was still standing, and got lost in the extreme blueness of his eyes. A wave of concern washed over you as the angel sat down next to you. Your eyes were wide open, and his gaze seemed to draw you in. You finally let go of a breath you didn’t know you had been holding, and hesitantly put your hand on his.

“It’s okay, Castiel. I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed. Sam and Dean must be used to that, I guess.” You saw Castiel’s head tilt and the questioning look on his face, but missed the looks the brothers gave to each other. The angel continued studying you while the brothers sputtered.

Sam walked around the table to you while both he and Dean talked over each other to ask you what had happened and what you were talking about. You felt Sam squat next to you and take your hand in his, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the angel.

“That feeling. That rush of, of, warmth and peace. I’ve never felt anything like that before. You guys must be so used to it you don’t even notice it, anymore.” You finally tore your eyes from the angel’s, and looked at Sam. Sam was looking back and forth between you and Cas with concerned confusion in his eyes.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you’re talking about. You felt something?” Sam questioned you while you looked back at Castiel, and Cas studied you. As you nodded, Cas smiled, and you felt another wave of warmth pass through you. “Cas, is that related to her head injury? We didn’t think she was badly injured….” Sam’s voice trailed off as he watched you and Cas.

“Y/N is an empath.” Cas seemed very pleased with this news, but you and the brothers both looked at him with alarm.

“I’m a what?” You shook your head, and then chided yourself for asking the question, because you knew what an empath was, but there was no way _you_ were an empath. That was ridiculous! “I mean, I know what an empath is, but what makes you think I’m one?”

“Only a human sensitive to the feelings and energies around them could have felt what you felt when we touched. You must be an empath.” The look you were giving the angel was incredulous.

“You mean, not everyone feels that?” You looked at the brothers, and both shook their heads. “I mean, I always knew I was sensitive to things,” you said as you looked at Sam, “I get overwhelmed in crowds and I don’t always deal well with loud or repetitive noises, but an empath?”

“What exactly is an empath, Cas? Apparently, I’m the only one in the dark, here,” Dean said.

“An empath is sensitive to energies around them. Specifically, the feelings of others around them. There are a lot of empaths in the world who never know their full potential because they discredit their gifts. All it takes is being told they’re wrong about what they’re feeling a few times for them to believe that they’re wrong, and so their gift never develops.” Cas looked back at you sadly, and you felt sadness wash through you. “Is that what happened to you?”

You realized that you were clutching Sam’s hand, but you didn’t make a move to let go, and neither did he. You were glad, because it felt like his hand was the only thing grounding you. You glanced over at him, and he was staring at you with wonder and concern. You tore your eyes away from his, and looked back at Dean and Cas.

“I’ve always thought it was just wishful thinking on my part. That what I felt was what I thought someone else would feel, but not necessarily what they were actually feeling, you know? I’ve always been a human lie detector for people I know, but that’s nothing special.” Cas tilted his head and narrowed his eyes again.

“An angel is easier for an empath to read because we’re just energy in a vessel. Let’s do an experiment, shall we?” You nodded, and you watched the angel’s face neutralize. For a moment, you felt nothing but your own trepidation.

When the laughter hit you, you thought you’d fall out of your chair. It wasn’t a chuckle, it was all-over, whole body laughter that brought tears to your eyes. Suddenly, everything in the room was just funny as hell, including the looks on the faces of the brothers, and you actually snorted before you got yourself under control again. You took a deep breath and calmed yourself a bit, but the smile was still tugging at the corners of your mouth.

The smile faded quickly, though, as a wave of confusion swept over you. You looked at Cas, trying to read his face, but his expression hadn’t changed. Sam tugged on your hand.

“What are you feeling, Y/N?”

“Confusion. Like I’m in a foreign country in an outdoor market and nobody speaks English, but everyone is trying to get me to do something.” As you finished speaking, the confusion passed, and you took a deep breath. What hit you next put butterflies in your stomach and made your breath hitch. You smiled, and searched Cas’s face again, though his expression still hadn’t changed. You looked from Dean to Sam and felt your heart clench. Love. Like the love you had for the boy who gave you your first kiss. It was exciting, and scary, and exhilarating all at once. Sam was still watching your face, and he smiled.

“What is it this time, Y/N?” Dean asked.

“Young love. Like high school sweethearts or engaged couples. That scary, nervous, exciting kind of love when everything is new.” Dean smiled at your response, and you grinned back at him.

Your smile faded quickly, though, as Cas pushed yet another emotion at you. Guilt. You glanced at Cas again, but his face still hadn’t changed. You shook your head at him, but the feeling just evolved into sadness and more guilt.

“Please, Cas. Move on.” You shut your eyes before the tears that were threatening could fall. Abruptly, your breathing eased and you were back to warmth, comfort, and peace. You took a few deep breaths and opened your eyes to see Cas smiling gently at you. He took your other hand in his, and the feeling of warmth and peace intensified, and you almost felt drowsy with it. With his free hand, he brushed a lock of hair from your face, leaving his fingers at your temple for a long moment. Suddenly, you heard his voice inside your head.

 _“The Winchesters will not deal well with an empath here. They don’t deal with their emotions, and instead, choose to push them aside. Be gentle with them, and trust your gift, because they will deny their feelings when pushed. I’ll help you as best I can, both with your gift, and with them.”_ You nodded at Cas, and ignored the questioning looks the brothers gave you. Cas let his hand drop from your temple.

“Y/N should rest, now. I most likely just overloaded her systems, I fear.” Cas let go of your hand and backed away from you.

“That sounds like a good idea. I am kind of tired, now.” You looked at the three men, and smiled. “You know where I’ll be if you need me.” You stood up to leave, and as you turned around the darkness overtook you.


	14. Chapter 14

_Sam_

As Y/N went down, Sam caught her. He settled her back in the chair, cradling her head gently. He and Dean both looked at Cas, and Cas put his fingers to her forehead.

“She’ll be fine after a rest. She did have a mild head injury, so I healed it, but I really did just overload her system. She’ll feel better after laying down for a while.”

“I’ll take her to her room, then,” Sam said, scooping her up in his arms and heading towards the bedrooms. As he carried her, Sam looked at Y/N’s face resting on his shoulder. He felt a tightness in his chest which he chose to ignore. When he got close to her room, she stirred in his arms, putting a hand on his chest and smiling. He was settling her on her bed when her eyes opened sleepily. He sat down on the bed beside her while she woke up.

“What happened?” Y/N rubbed her eyes and looked at Sam questioningly.

“You fainted. Cas said he thinks he overloaded your system with what he did and you should just rest for a while, and maybe take a nap.”

Y/N nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Sam stood up and headed for the door. “Well, if you’re okay, then I’ll go so you can relax.” Sam turned to the pile of books and journals Dean had brought in the other day, and grabbed the journals. “I’ll work on these a bit, see what I can make out. If you need anything, just come find us.” Sam smiled and nervously exited the room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Sam stood in the hallway leaning against the wall for a moment. He was going to have to control these wild urges to touch her all the time. He had watched Dean’s face when he wasn’t staring at Y/N during the whole incident in the library. The only reason Dean hadn’t been beside her is because he was farther away and Sam got there, first. He half expected Dean to fight him for the privilege of carrying Y/N back to her room. _And she’s an empath? Better control these urges and feelings before they become something she can feel._ Sam pushed himself away from the wall and headed towards the library.

Cas and Dean were chatting quietly when Sam entered the room and sat down.

“So, still nothing on this Darkness? I mean, the longer nothing happens, the more nervous I get,” Dean said. He took a drink from his soda bottle and set it down loudly. Cas shook his head.

“Nothing, so far. Whatever it is, it’s not leaving any traces. I’ve checked everything I can think of to check and found nothing amiss, so far. We may just have to wait and watch and see what happens.” Sam sighed and Dean grimaced.

“Man, there’s nothing worse than knowing some evil crap is out there, but not being able to do anything about it.” Dean rubbed a hand over his face and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Well, in the meantime, we have Y/N and Rowena to worry about. And Crowley. You know he’s going to hold her to her offer, right? And who knows what he’ll ask of her.” Sam ran a hand through his hair, trying not to imagine what favor Crowley might ask of Y/N.

“Y/N made an offer to Crowley?” Cas peered at Sam until Sam squirmed.

“Yeah. She thanked him for saving her life, and then told him if he ever needed anything, she’d try to help.” Sam frowned while Cas’s eyes widened.

“And you didn’t stop her??” Cas stared at Sam intensely, making Sam squirm further in his seat. Dean came to his rescue.

“He tongue-tied us before we could say anything! She knew who he was, so we never expected her to do anything like that!” Cas looked back and forth between the brothers.

“So, she inadvertently made a deal with Crowley, kiss and all?” Sam tried to keep his face from screwing into the grimace he felt at the thought of Crowley kissing Y/N. Crowley was right about how he would have felt about that.

“No. He actually didn’t kiss her. Said he liked her, so he wanted to kiss her to seal the deal, but he didn’t.” Dean looked thoughtful as he spoke. “Why didn’t he kiss her? He could have tossed us aside and done whatever he wanted, made a deal with her for anything, but he didn’t.”

Sam got a sour taste in his mouth. “Well, he said he likes her.” He fidgeted, wishing he had something to drink or something to do with his hands. He sat back in his chair, trying not to think about the ramifications of Crowley liking Y/N. Dean wouldn’t let him, though.

“Looks like you’ve got some competition, there, Sammy.” Dean smirked. “Think you can beat the King of Hell for the fair lady’s heart?” Dean chuckled while Sam gave him what he hoped was an epic bitch face. Cas peered at Sam again.

“You have feelings for Y/N?” Cas asked Sam in his typical deadpan inquisitive way. Sam looked at Cas and huffed.

“No! I just met her a few days ago! Yes, she’s nice, and yes, she’s pretty, but geez, guys! That’s it!” Sam looked defensively at Cas and Dean. Dean chuckled.

“Are you sure, Sam? The two of you looked pretty cozy in her bed the past couple of nights.” Dean was smirking at Sam and then actually winked for emphasis.

“I’m sure, Dean. She’s been having nightmares, and just needed someone to stay with her. I just happened to be the one who heard her. It could just as easily have been you in there, Dean.” Sam wished he could wipe the cocky grin off of his brother’s face.

“Well, Sammy, if that’s the case, then maybe I’ll take a swing at her.” Dean shrugged. “Like you said, she’s nice, she’s pretty, and,” Dean put up a finger and gave the two men a wide grin, “she likes pie.” Dean smacked the table happily and kept grinning like an idiot while Sam fought the urge to deck him.

“Whatever, Dean. She doesn’t need either one of us trying to hook up with her while she’s got Rowena on her tail. Especially since it’s our fault she’s got Rowena on her tail.” Sam stood up, grabbing the journals, and headed out of the room.

“Hey! I’m just thinking she might like my hands-on approach to protecting her, that’s all!” Dean shouted, sounding like a smug bastard. Sam waved a hand behind him as he headed towards his room.


	15. Chapter 15

_You_

You were lying quietly in the dark trying to go to sleep when Dean knocked on your door to check on you. When you answered, he sat down on your bed next to you, looking you over until he seemed satisfied. He told you to come find him if you needed anything and squeezed your hand. Impulsively, you gave him a quick hug and thanked him for the offer. He also gave you a piece of paper with a phone number on it and told you Cas wanted you to have it.

“He said you can text him if you have any questions about your gift, or if you want to practice with him some more. By the way, he loves texting. Emoticons, man. Expect a lot of emoticons.” Dean shook his head and smiled while you chuckled.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful, with Dean bringing you something to eat around dinner time, and the two of you watching some TV in his room afterwards. That night you slept well, without any nightmares, and woke up the next morning feeling almost disappointed by it. You pulled the pillow Sam had used to your nose and sniffed it, enjoying the scent of Sam coming from it. Something about him just made you feel better, no matter what.

You didn’t run into Sam again until after breakfast that day, finding him in the library, looking back and forth between one of your uncle’s journals and another large tome. His hair was falling into his face a little, and your hands itched to touch it. Looking around, you saw the other journals in a stack farther away on the table, unopened. You had looked through them once or twice, but couldn’t make anything out except dates. There were five journals all total, with entries ranging from what looked like one sentence to some as long as many pages.

“Hey, Sam. How’s it going? Making heads or tails of it?” You sat down next to him and peered over his shoulder. The book he was glancing at occasionally had the same markings as in your uncle’s journals. “You found the language!” You looked at Sam in surprise, and he looked up at you with a small smile.

“Yeah. I actually recognized it as soon as I saw it. It’s Enochian. Your family must have been really hard core, because this first journal is from before your grandfather’s death. To have learned Enochian as a kid is impressive. So far, I’m reading about a crush he had on a girl named Margaret and a failed geography test. Anyway, if I run into any problems, I’ll just call Cas.” You shook your head.

“Enochian?”

“Enochian is the language of the angels. There are a lot of spells and sigils that use Enochian.”

Sam seemed far more interested in the sixty-year old journal than in chatting with you, so you decided to leave him to it. You got up, and started wandering through the stacks of books, looking at titles and wondering about the new view of the world you were getting. You came across a book on signs and sigils, and decided to see if you could find out what the unknown charms on your bracelet were. You took the book back to the table, sat down next to Sam, and started paging through it.

While Sam was distracted, you watched him. His eyes moved back and forth between the books in front of him, and every now and then, his lips would move just a little. You studied the stubble on his chin, the ever-changing color of his eyes, and the gentleness of his hands as his fingers caressed the pages. You pushed away the thought of how his fingers would feel on your skin. _Now is not the time for romance, Y/N! Not when you’ve got a witch after you!_

You took a breath and concentrated on the energy coming off of him. You got a steady feeling from him. It was clear, it was focused, and it was warm. This work…this was obviously easy for him. For a moment, you wondered what it would feel like to feel this warmth from him while he was looking into your eyes or holding you. If he did…you’d be in serious trouble. You shook your head and pushed back disappointment. _Obviously, you don’t appeal to him as much as a 50-year old journal. Get over it._ You dragged your eyes away from his soft hair and broad shoulders with a sigh.

Half an hour later, Sam made a choked noise in his throat. You looked up at him, and studied the distressed look on his face.

“What are you reading, Sam? What’s he saying?” Sam looked up at you sadly, and then put his eyes back on the page.

“I’m up to the point where your grandfather died. Their father passed away shortly before of natural causes, according to the Men of Letters, but apparently it was actually a household accident. Your uncle had written something about it being ironic that a trip down the stairs would take the life of someone who fought against evil. But when your grandfather died, Lloyd didn’t know exactly what happened. All he knew was the Men of Letters were all gone, the chapter house they were in that night burned to the ground, and he was now the man of the house, with a mother, a sister-in-law, and a nephew to protect. He had just graduated high school, he knew there was untold evil in the world, and he realized he had no one to teach him how to protect his family. On top of that, he had to get a paying job to help support everyone.” Sam paused with a heavy sigh. “Your uncle was afraid, but he knew he couldn’t show it to his family. Apparently the Men of Letters were sticklers about not telling the women in their lives about what was really out there. It’s just sad how alone he was. I can’t imagine being in his position.” Sam ran a hand through his hair. “I mean, I’ve lost Dean plenty of times, but I never had anyone else depending on me at the same time.” Sam huffed and sat back in his chair, and you watched pain flicker over his face. “I don’t know how your uncle did it.” You gazed at Sam sadly, desperately trying to contain your urge to hug him and comfort him.

“You said you’ve lost Dean? Do you mind if I ask?” Sam looked up at you with a measure of fear in his eyes.

“Huh. Well, in this line of work, death is expected.” Sam’s eyes dropped to his hands. “However, when you’re a Winchester, it doesn’t always stick.” Sam looked up at you nervously. You raised your eyebrows.

“You mean, Dean has _died_? Like literally _died_?” You tried to wrap your mind around the concept of Dean having died, yet still being alive somewhere in the bunker.

“Yeah. We both have. A few times.” You felt your jaw go slack. You tried to speak, but your brain couldn’t process what you were hearing enough to make a response, so your mouth just flapped open and closed like a fish. You finally got your wits together and decided to ask the questions you should have been asking since you arrived.

“Okay. You know my story, give or take a few irrelevant details. It’s time for you to talk. What the hell are you guys?” You immediately felt a rush of something sour that you couldn’t quite place come from Sam and you realized what you just said. “Oh, God, Sam, I didn’t mean that like it sounded! I’m so sorry. I just, well, you and your brother…Ugh.” you paused to take a breath and think before you tripped over your words any further. “You have the King of Hell on speed dial, an angel best friend, an underground clubhouse that makes the Batcave look like a garden shed, and you talk about killing monsters and dying like it’s just another Tuesday.” You shook your head and tried to settle your thoughts, but Dean surprised you by speaking from behind you.

“Oh, honey, it’s only Monday.” You turned around and caught the teasing smile on his face. You recognized the feeling of comfort you suddenly had as coming from Dean, now that you knew what it was, and returned his smile. You turned back to Sam, but still got that sour feeling. He gave you a smile, though, and worked to reassure you.

“It’s okay, Y/N, I know what you mean. We’re hunters. But, we’re also legacies.” Sam waved a hand at the room. “And, we’ve been other things, too, some of which we’re not proud of.” The sour feeling got stronger as Sam looked down for a moment. “But, just know that we’re going to do everything we can to keep you safe, no matter what.” The sour feeling improved somewhat as Sam looked into your eyes. You could tell he hoped you believed him and trusted him. That much was shining in his eyes. In spite of all the muddled feelings and mixed signals you were getting from him, you knew you’d trust him with your life. And all your heart wanted to do was make that sour feeling go away. You made sure you were looking in his eyes when you responded.

“I know.” You took his hand in yours and squeezed it, not tearing your eyes away from his. While you sat there for a long moment, your eyes locked and hands grasped, the flow of energy you got from him changed. Armed with the knowledge that what you were feeling was real, and not just in your imagination, you tried to note the change. The sourness faded and was replaced by a warmth. As you began to feel your cheeks flush, Sam broke the contact and took a deep breath, clearing his throat as his eyes flitted around the room for a moment. They settled on Dean.

“What’s on your agenda for today,” Sam asked, while Dean sat down next to you and put his feet up on the table.

“I was thinking of taking Y/N down to the shooting gallery and getting her training started.” Dean turned to you. “I was thinking we’d do guns this morning, then switch to hand-to-hand self-defense in the afternoon. Sound good?” You gave Dean a nervous smile and nodded.

“I’ve never handled a gun, and I’ve never thrown a punch, so I hope you’re willing to go slow at the start.” You looked at Sam questioningly as you stood up. “We okay?” Sam smiled up at you and nodded. What you were getting from him was still a muddled mix of warmth and sourness, but you decided there was nothing you could do but to believe his actions.

Your time with Dean was educational and exhausting. By the end of the day, you had managed to at least hit the target more often than not with the smaller guns, and you had learned how to throw a proper punch without breaking your hand. Dean was happy with your progress, and told you so as you were relaxing in the workout room afterwards.

“Dean, does Sam not like me or something?” The surprise evident on Dean’s face almost caused you to sit back.

“Not like you? Sammy? I wouldn’t worry about that.” Dean chuckled and shook his head. “What makes you think that?” You shook your head and looked down at the water bottle in your hand.

“Ever since Cas told me that I’m an empath, I’ve been thinking about the things I’ve felt my whole life and trying to look at things through this new, I don’t know, lens. Also, I have to admit, I’ve been taking notice of what I feel coming from you and Sam and trying to make sense of it in context, as it were.” Dean obviously looked uncomfortable at this, so you gave him a smile. “Don’t worry so much, I promise not to tell anyone anything I feel.” Dean smiled a bit, but still looked uncomfortable. “Let’s say I’m a radio, and you guys are transmitting signals to me. With you, the stations might change, or the songs might change, but the reception is clear. With Sam, it’s like I’m in a valley where no one station comes in clearly, so I’m hearing three songs playing at once through a veil of static. Sometimes, one song is louder than the others so I can identify it, but most times, it’s just a garbled mess. His actual presence is like putting all of that into a TV. I have a clear picture, but none of the sounds match up to the picture. I had a similar problem with Cas when he was doing that experiment on me. The complete lack of physical clues was disorienting, when put together with the feelings he was sending to me. The only answer I can come up with is that Sam doesn’t like me, for some reason, but is trying to be nice to me, anyway, and that’s why everything I get from him feels like…I don’t know…sour milk and lemonade.” Dean burst out laughing, but quickly controlled himself.

“Sour milk and lemonade? Really?” You chuckle and shake your head.

“You know, lemonade is nice and polite, but the rest is just lumpy, sour milk.” Dean chuckled again, but shook his head.

“I think Sam likes you just fine, he’s just the type of person who has to overthink everything. He’s always been a deep little shit, thinking a dozen things at once, which is how he can make connections no one else would make so much faster than anyone else. But when it comes to people, nothing has ever been simple with him. My guess is that whatever you’re getting is just him being the overanalyzing geek that he is.” Dean smiled, and you smiled in return. Dean cocked his head at you for a moment. “You were using a radio as an example, but is that really what it’s like? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking….” You shook your head.

“No! I don’t mind. And no, it’s not sound, it’s a feeling. It’s the same as my own feelings, just not connected to me in any way, if you know what I mean. I guess that’s why it’s always been so easy to ignore. Now that I know that it’s there, it’s easy for me to think about what I’m feeling and differentiate between what’s mine and what’s not. I told Cas I’ve always been a human lie detector for my friends, but I’m curious to see how accurate I am with people I don’t know.” You could almost see the gears working in Dean’s mind. “Got something else you want to ask me?” Dean’s face tinged pink and he smiled.

“I’ve been wondering why you offered to help Crowley. I mean, we told you he’s the King of Hell, which should have scared the crap out of you enough for you to keep quiet.” You felt the fear coming off Dean, and everything he was doing to keep calm. “You basically made a deal with the devil for a favor to be named later at his discretion. If he had wanted to, he could have kissed you right then and there and officially sealed the deal, and there was nothing we could have done about it. As it stands, you’re lucky he’s keeping it unofficial. But it brings me back to my question. What made you decide to do it?”

You took a long moment to think, and to make sure you said exactly what you meant.

“I was feeling something while the four of us sat there, and at the time, I thought it was my own feeling. I was feeling left out. Like I was an outsider, even though I knew we were talking about me and I had every right to be there. I chalked it up to being the one person at the table who wasn’t in the life.” Dean nodded and shrugged, but still listened. “As we talked, part of me just wanted to contribute to the conversation, part of me wanted to do the right thing and thank the person that saved my life, and part of me wanted to do something that would make me belong, somehow. Offering to help in any measly way I could seemed appropriate.” You paused and considered your memories of the conversation. “Now, I’m not sure that was all from me. I think part of what I was feeling I was getting from Crowley.” Dean’s eyes widened and he sat back.

“Crowley? What do you mean?”

“I mean, I think that Crowley, I don’t know, this sounds ridiculous now that I’m about to say it out loud, but I think part of Crowley wants to be accepted by you. I think he wants to help you, as long as it doesn’t go against what he thinks he has to do to keep his crown and stay alive.” The look on Dean’s face was almost comical.

“You mean, you think he wants to be besties.” Dean sighed. “Damn. Been there, done that.” It was your turn to widen your eyes and stare at Dean.

“Been there, done that? Is this going to be like Sam saying you both died, and I quote, ‘plenty of times,’ unquote?” Dean took a long drink of water from his bottle and looked down at his shoes.

“Yeah, something like that. I was a demon for a while, not too long ago. A Knight of Hell, actually. It’s a long story, but for a while, Crowley and I were howling at the moon together. I finally pissed him off enough that he turned me over to Sam, who managed to bring me back. Not my proudest moments.”

“Huh. Well, that explains the drink and his comment about it.” You decided to save for later the thoughts of what Dean being a demon really meant. Dean chuckled at your comment.

“Yeah….” Dean got quiet. You grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed it.

“Hey.” He looked up at you.

“Yeah?”

“You’re all human, now, right?” Dean nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Then no worries. Being Crowley’s bestie as a demon and being friendly as a human are two different things. Now, I don’t know how smart either choice is, I’ll leave that to you, since you have experience in the matter. It’s just something that I noticed, and hopefully an explanation as why I did something so wildly stupid. I know he’ll come asking for a favor, someday, and I can only hope it’s something easy. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it. I’m still having a hard time picturing the man that sat there at the table drinking a fruity drink with a tiny umbrella as the King of Hell.” Dean chuckled.

“Right after we tried to turn him human, we kept him here in the dungeon for a while, trying to get him to help us take out demons. At one point, we took him on a little field trip to help us find something, and we were waiting in this park at night. Sam and I are sitting there on a bench, and I look over to see Crowley trying to steal candy from a vending machine!” You and Dean both start chuckling. “I just yelled at him, ‘Hey! You’re the King of Rotten! Act like it!’” Both of you were laughing out loud and clutching your sides when Sam walked in. You felt him before you saw him, the muddled waves hitting you from behind. You turned around and saw him standing in the doorway, and felt more of that sour feeling coming off of him.

“Hey, Sam,” you said, with a smile, hoping to maybe get a smile back from the handsome hunter.


	16. Chapter 16

_Sam_

Spending the day translating Lloyd’s journal seemed far more interesting, if more productive, than trying to find a way to take out Rowena. At least, that’s what Sam convinced himself. He could translate the journals quickly, getting them off his mental to-do list, and then work on the slow and frustrating task of finding a way to kill the woman Y/N called The Queen Mum of Hell. He cracked a smile at the thought. Not only was she pretty, but she was funny, and caring, too. Sam closed his eyes for a moment and heard her laughter from the night before when Cas was doing his experiment. God, it was beautiful. He had held onto her hand, and never wanted to let it go as he had watched the different emotions pass through her. Sam shook his head to clear it. _Back to translating. Get the journals done. Y/N will like being able to read these._ Sam imagined her smile when he handed her the finished product. _Stop it. You’re just getting the easiest job off of your to-do list. Her smile has nothing to do with it._

Sam went back to translating. He was almost at the end of the first journal. Lloyd had found a psychic who had helped him get started on learning how to protect his family from the supernatural. Sam kept working, until he got to the end of the journal, then re-read the last few lines. Sam paused, shook his head, and then read them again. Sam gave Cas a quick call and verified his translations were true, and then headed to the workout room to find Y/N.

Sam wondered how far Y/N had gotten in her training today. Getting her trained up and able to defend herself was extremely important so she could go back to living a normal life. As he got close to the workout room, he heard Dean telling a story about Crowley, and then laughter. As much as he loved the sound of both of them laughing, there hadn’t been any laughter in the bunker in far too long, he wondered why they weren’t training. Wasn’t getting her ready most important?

He entered the room and the laughter died away. Y/N turned toward him with a smile that simultaneously made him warm and broke his heart.

“Hey, Sam.” Sam finally managed a weak smile.

“Hey, guys, I thought you were training?” Sam looked at Dean pointedly, and Dean shrugged.

“She knows how to throw a punch without breaking her hand, and she hit the targets more often than not with the smaller guns downstairs. I figure it’s a good first day, so we’re taking a break. I was just telling her about that time Crowley was trying to steal candy from the vending machine and I yelled at him.” Dean smirked and stifled a chuckle, but all Sam could muster was a huff.

“Well, I got to the end of the first journal, and I found something interesting that I thought Y/N should know.” Sam sighed and sat down next to Y/N and faced her. “Apparently, Lloyd suspected your grandmother was a witch. Now, I checked with Cas on the translation, just to make sure I didn’t get my negatives doubled or something, but it looks like if she was a witch, she wasn’t practicing. He suspected her of ‘pushing’ people with her mind, sometimes, though. He said she’s very good at reading people, and she’s the most persuasive person he’s ever known, to the point that it’s unnatural. I haven’t gotten past this, but it sounds to me like you got your gift from your grandmother, and there might be more that you can do that you don’t know about, yet.” Sam stopped talking when he realized Y/N was giggling.

“I’m so sorry, Sam, but that is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard!” Y/N was openly laughing, now. Sam felt his stomach sink as he watched her laughing at him. When she finally controlled herself, she put a hand on Sam’s arm and smiled at him. “I’m not laughing at you, or your translation, so please, stop whatever it is that’s causing that sour feeling you’re sending to me.” Sam sat upright and tried to contain his feelings. “I’m laughing because my uncle was a paranoid dingbat sometimes. I mean, now that I know that supernatural stuff is out there, maybe he wasn’t so much of a dingbat, but he had his moments. He always thought the electric company was somehow cheating him, and he questioned the bank about every interest payment. Even if it wasn’t about money, if he somehow didn’t get his way, I’d have to listen to a tirade about how everyone somehow cheated the system except for him. The neighbors had prettier yards because they slipped a little something extra to the gardener, or the mechanic always took a day longer to fix his car than he did to fix anyone else’s. I don’t know what made him that way, but he turned away a lot of women who had eyes for him because of it.” Dean was grinning at Y/N while he watched her giggle, and Sam tried not to think about the soft look on Dean’s face.

“Your uncle sounds like a real joy to live with, Y/N.” Dean chuckled as he smiled at her. “That doesn’t necessarily mean he was wrong about your grandmother, though. Sam’s only at the end of the first journal. Who knows what proof your uncle may have found later on?” Y/N smiled at Dean while Sam did his level best to contain his feelings about it.

“I remember my grandmother, even though she died when I was still little, and I just don’t see it. She was the kindest woman I ever knew. She never lost her temper. She was persuasive, yes. She’d put her hand on your arm or something, look you in the eye, and gently tell you all the reasons she was right. She did it to me a couple of times, but you still can’t convince me she was a witch.” Y/N smiled and turned to Sam, making him concentrate extra hard to contain his feelings. “But, I’ll wait until you finish your translating before I make a final judgement on my uncle’s fear.” Sam tried to muster a smile.

“You know, hunters have used psychics for all kinds of things, and I bet the Men of Letters did, too. It wouldn’t surprise me if your grandparents met that way, but it was a big family secret, just like everything else.” Dean raised his eyebrows when he made the suggestion and Sam watched Y/N consider Dean’s words.

“Well, in that case, maybe you’re right. Either way, I’d rather wait and see if Uncle Lloyd wrote any more about it.” Y/N paused, thinking. “If she did, wouldn’t there be a record of it somewhere here in the bunker? I mean, if she worked with them and with hunters, she’d be mentioned somewhere here, right?” Sam nodded, and Y/N rested a hand on his arm. “Then, how about after I get cleaned up, you show me where I can start looking through records and that will be my project when I’m not training with Dean?” With Y/N’s eyes on him, Sam got strangely flustered, so just nodded.

“Y-Yeah.” Sam cleared his throat. “That sounds good.” Sam got up and started to head towards the door. “Well, I’m going to get back to it. One down and four to go.” Sam headed back to the library and flopped into a chair. He sighed, and then put his head down in his arms. Controlling whatever feelings he was putting out was difficult. And Y/N had called it sour. He was going to have to learn how to box up his emotions when he was around her. Sam’s thoughts were interrupted when he heard one of the chairs next to him slide across the floor. He looked up to see Cas taking a seat.

“Hey, Cas. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Hello, Sam. Sorry if I startled you. You looked like you were resting. Want me to work on the journals for a while so you can take a break?” Sam inched the journal in his hands closer to himself. For reasons he wouldn’t admit to even himself, he wanted to be the one to do the translating. Considering Y/N’s reaction to his translations so far, maybe he should have Cas check his work when he’s done, though.

“No, that’s okay. But thanks for offering. Maybe you can help me with something else, though?”

Cas tilted his head to the side a little and said, “How can I be of assistance?”

“Y/N and I were just talking, and she had to ask me to control whatever it was I was feeling because it felt sour to her. We had a misunderstanding, and I guess my frustration or whatever seeped out and she caught it.” Sam glanced down at his hands for a moment, then looked back up at Cas. “I mean, if she’s affected by everything that everyone else feels, that’s got to be exhausting for her. Is there any way to control what comes out of me so she can’t feel every little thing?” Cas nodded.

“I can try to teach you to put up a wall, of sorts, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great, Cas.”

“Okay, then. Close your eyes and imagine a place where you are happy and safe. If you were Dean, I’d suggest the Impala. For me, it’s a garden. It’s better if it’s a real place, just for the ease of imagining it. Do you have a place in mind?”

Sam nodded. When he was at Stanford, there was a room in the library where he loved to go and study. It was filled with books, of course, but it was quiet, and away from everything else. Oddly enough, it was the mythology section, which didn’t get a lot of use, so it was rare to find other people there. Sam pictured the room as he remembered it and smiled.

“Can you describe it to me?”

“It’s a room that was in the library at Stanford. So, bookcases, books, and a table to sit at.” Sam tried to picture little details of the room like the painting on the wall and the feel of the table underneath his fingertips. Cas interrupted his thought.

“Good. I can work with that. Now picture that each book is a feeling of yours. I want you to put each book away on the shelves, and then leave the room, shutting the door behind you.” Sam pictured a book with “JOY” written on the cover, and put it on the shelf. He did the same with “GRIEF,” “DUTY,” “FEAR,” and “ANGER,” though those books were larger. He turned around in his little room and was surprised to find a book titled “JESS” lying on the table. Jess wasn’t a feeling. Jess was…Jess. Sam sighed. He carefully shelved the book between “JOY” and “GRIEF.” He turned around, and found a thick tome that looked like a world atlas on steroids sitting on the table. “GUILT.” _Yeah, that figures._ It took him two tries, but he was finally able to pick up the book, and he found a shelf built exactly for it in a corner shelf underneath where the globe sat. He checked the table one last time, and saw the last book, “LOVE.” Part of him wanted to flip through that one, but now wasn’t the time. He shelved the book on the innermost part of the shelf, next to “JOY.” If anyone were to run into this room and grab the first books they could reach, “LOVE” would still be safely hidden away for a long time. Sam looked over the room again, and then walked out, shutting the door behind him. For safe measure, he turned around and faced the door, turning a key in the lock and putting it in his pocket. As his mind’s eye walked away from the door, Sam opened his eyes and looked at Cas.

“Did I do it right?” Cas peered at him, and his mind’s eye saw the door to his room rattle. The lock held, though, and Sam smiled. Cas nodded, but didn’t smile.

“Yes, Sam. I think you did. I’m not getting anything off of you right now. I believe that will hold up against Y/N’s gift, as long as she doesn’t invasively try to sense anything. I wouldn’t suggest keeping the room locked when you’re alone, though. Let the room air out, as it were, whenever you can, or it will become less effective. Just use it when you need to.” Sam nodded at Cas.

“Thanks, man. Hopefully that will keep me from bothering her again.” Sam pushed the first journal over to Cas, along with his translations, and started discussing some of the trickier phrases with the angel. A few minutes later, Y/N came in and sat down across the table from them. Sam checked his mental library room, found a stray book titled “FRUSTRATION” sitting on a shelf outside the door, chucked the book inside the room, and slammed the door shut. With everything locked away, he smiled easily at Y/N.

“Hey, guys. Sam, if you’ve got a minute to show me where the files are, I can get started on them.” Y/N smiled at Sam, and Sam noted with relief the lack of response his body gave. No heartbeats skipped; no flushing in his face. _This little exercise might help more than just Y/N._ Sam got up and led Y/N into one of the records rooms. He pointed out boxes and file cabinets, and told her if she needed any help moving anything, to come and get him. As he walked back to the library, Sam congratulated himself on finally being able to interact with Y/N without having a million feelings trip him up.


	17. Chapter 17

_You_

Sitting in the records room, surrounded by filing cabinets and boxes and covered in dust, you felt your stomach sink right through the floor. For the first time since you’d met him, you actually felt cold after being around Sam. The muddled, mixed-up, and sour feelings were gone, and replaced by…static. His smile still made your heart beat faster, but there was no warmth to it. Just…static. You blinked away tears and chided yourself for being silly. You met this man just a couple of days before, under extraordinary circumstances, but it was still too fast to be this attached to him. You thought about your last few conversations, and how each one had involved you somehow saying something to cause that sour feeling. Maybe this was better. Having no feelings for you had to be better than disliking you. You took a deep breath and dug into the files.

Half an hour later, you had discovered the files pertaining to outside contacts, and you dragged the box to the library. Sam and Cas jumped up to help you, but you waved them off. After you set the box down on the table, Dean popped his head in and asked about dinner. You all decided on takeout, and Dean went to get it while you and Sam continued working in the library in silence.

Sitting there, you studied Sam again. Something was definitely different. He was still easy on the eyes, but the warmth from earlier almost gone. It was better than the static from the records room, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been before. You found yourself almost drawn to it, and you shifted just a little closer to Sam as you looked through the files you were studying. You wondered if Cas noticed you studying Sam, and thought perhaps you should talk to him about it later.

Over dinner, the four of you discussed what you’d all learned. Dean bragged to Cas about your abilities with the hand guns and with punching. Sam and Cas talked about Uncle Lloyd’s journals, though there wasn’t anything truly newsworthy, so far. Sam was halfway into the second one, where Lloyd was making contacts with psychics and hunters while watching Y/N’s father grow up. You told the others about the kinds of contacts the Men of Letters had. They were mostly hunters, but there was the occasional psychic or alchemist. Cas talked about his continued search for anything on anything, and how he thought he’d utilized every resource. Dean told you about “The Darkness” that was released, and how they were just waiting for whatever it was to show up and do something. The talk came back to Rowena, and if there was any way to neutralize her while she had The Book of the Damned and the Codex. After some explanation about both, you decided it was best to keep quiet and let the pros handle that discussion.

After dinner, you cornered Cas in the library while Sam was cleaning up the kitchen and Dean was searching for a movie you all could watch.

“Cas, what does it mean if I stop getting feelings from someone?” Cas tilted his head at you and squinted for a moment, then relaxed and nodded.

“Sam asked me to help him contain what he was sending out so he wouldn’t bother you anymore. He was concerned that it was unpleasant for you to have to deal with everyone’s feelings all the time, and wanted to spare you what he could control. I imagine the sudden lack of reception from him was disconcerting.” You nodded sadly.

“Yeah. The muddle I was getting before was confusing, but the blankness I’m getting now is downright upsetting. I thought maybe I had done something to make him dislike me even more than he already does.” You dropped your eyes to try and hide the disappointment from the angel. Cas went to touch your arm, then thought better of it, and sighed.

“I don’t think Sam dislikes you at all. I wouldn’t presume to say what he does feel, but if he disliked you, he wouldn’t have cared what you were feeling from him.” Cas smiled at you, and you gingerly took his hand. You felt the rush of warmth and peace and smiled up at him.

“Thank you, Cas. I don’t know what I’d do without you to help me understand this thing.” Dean popped his head around the corner just then and yelled at the two of you to hurry up or he was going to start the movie without you.


	18. Chapter 18

_You_

The next few days continued as that one had. You got up in the morning, had breakfast with Dean, did target practice in the mornings, self-defense in the afternoons, dinner with the brothers and sometimes Cas, and then evenings either in the library reading old files with Sam or watching movies with Dean. You appreciated the movies Dean liked, though you didn’t get quite as excited about them as he did. Dean seemed to like getting you caught up on his favorites. Apparently, Uncle Lloyd had shaped your movie experiences, too, having kept you from going out much with your friends to see what was popular. Dean took it upon himself to make sure you were completely caught up with _Star Wars_ , all the _Die Hard_ movies, and even _Lord of the Rings_ and _The Hobbit_ movies, though they seemed to make him more emotional than the others. When you actually saw tears running down his face during one of them, you snuggled close to him on the couch and rubbed circles into his arm. He finally paused the movie and told you about Charlie. By the time he was done, you had wrapped your arms around him and he was curled into you, silent tears soaking into your shirt. The force of the grief you felt coming from him was so great that you also had tears running down your face. When he turned the movie back on, the two of you stayed close together, you tucked under his arm. After that, it wasn’t uncommon for you to snuggle against him while you watched whatever movie he had decided you needed to see. Sometimes Sam and Cas would join you, but you always found yourself next to Dean.

The hours you spent in the library with Sam were precious to you, though. When he was poring over old books and barely knew you were there, you would sit close to him and just enjoy the lack of static while you pretended to read. Even though you and Dean had gotten close, he felt more like a big brother to you. His job, and he said this to you often and loudly, was to protect you and make sure you knew how to protect yourself. Oh, and teach you everything he thought you should know about pop culture and classic rock. He also took you under his wing in the kitchen, expanding your skill set to baked goods, especially pie. You still couldn’t whip something up out of nothing, but now you had more experience with different kinds of recipes. The best part of your time in the kitchen was when Dean would talk. He would finally open up about his life with his Sammy, from the fire that took their mother, to the demon taking their dad, to his time spent in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. When you were with Sam, though, he’d occasionally give you an actual smile with that warmth behind it, and you’d almost swoon. It took you hours longer than it should have to go through the records you were studying because you kept getting lost in thoughts about Sam. There were so many questions running through your mind about him, and you could never get up the nerve to just interrupt his work to ask him.

The worst was when Sam started showing up in your dreams. You had dreams before this that could possibly be Sam, but this was definitely Sam. The day after the first dream, and it was a very good dream, with his warm hands and long fingers all over your body, you couldn’t even look at Sam. It was a rare day when he’d slept in instead of going for an early run, and he had breakfast with you and Dean in his pajama pants and a tight t-shirt. His hair was still messy from sleep, the shirt showed off his arms and shoulders, and the pants were just barely hanging onto his hips. When he reached up into the cabinet for his cereal, he showed off just a strip of skin for half a second, and it took you a moment to catch your breath. Scenes from your dream flashed through your mind…Sam kissing you in the library, Sam’s hand touching you innocently in any number of places, Sam’s shoulders under your hands as his lips found your neck…and you felt your face flush. Cas had showed you the trick he’d taught Sam to contain his feelings, and you spent a moment studying your eggs and bacon while you carefully put your lust-filled thoughts in with the rose quartz crystals in the bookstore in your mind.

A few days after Sam had started translating the journals, he was done. He spent another day waiting on Cas to review his work before he would show you the finished product. During that day, you found your grandmother’s file in the Men of Letters records. When you saw her name, and tracked down the file on her, you whooped so loudly Dean came running from his bedroom, gun drawn. When he saw you were triumphantly holding a file in your hand, he relaxed, and let out a sigh.

“Son of a bitch, Y/N! I thought Rowena had found a way in here through a vent or something!” You laughed at Dean’s exasperated face, and just grinned.

“After five solid days of sneezing through dusty files, I found my grandmother’s file! Sam was right!” You held it up in triumph, looking toward Sam to see if he was as excited as you were. He was smiling, but all you felt from him was static. “I’m sorry for doubting you, Sam.” Sam nodded, but said nothing. Dean set his gun down on the table and walked over to you to look over the file with you. You both sat down, and started reading together, Dean’s arm around the back of your chair. By the time you were done, you were in awe.

“So? What does it say?” Sam was smiling smugly, and you had a feeling he would already know the answer.

“My grandmother was listed under psychics, and her file says she was an empath, a lie detector, and what they called a persuasive. Apparently my uncle was right. She could nudge people into doing and thinking what she wanted. There are a bunch of experiments they did on her in here, and it looks like it was my grandfather who supervised most of them. I guess that’s how they met.” While Dean started reviewing the file in detail, you looked at Sam. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?” You gave Sam a grin that you hoped would get him to let his walls down for a second. Sam smiled, but behind it was still static.

“Your grandmother talked to your uncle about it before she died. Assured him that your father didn’t have the gift, but suspected you did. At least, that’s my translation. I want Cas to make sure I got everything right before I give everything over to you.” Sam looked down at the papers for a moment, and you felt the static lift for a just a second, giving you a short burst of warmth before it returned. “There’s a lot of really personal stuff in here, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.” The smile Sam gave to you was warm and almost shy, and it would have completely melted your heart if it weren’t for the static behind it. Instead, you thought you felt your heart crack.

In a moment, a wave of different emotions rushed through you, and you knew they were all yours, faced with the static from Sam. Why couldn’t he let his guard down just a little? Because he thought he was making it easier for you. Why did it bother you so much that you couldn’t feel him? Why did it make you happy that he cared enough to keep himself from hurting you? Why didn’t you have the courage to tell him that it was unnecessary? Dean interrupted your thoughts as he flipped through the file.

“I bet we could do some of these experiments here. You know, see if you have all of your grandmother’s abilities or not. I think we’d need to find someone you don’t know, though. What do you think, Sam?”

“That might not be a bad idea. Any tools Y/N has to help defend herself are tools she should learn how to use. I bet if we called Hank, told him he could make it up to her for freaking her out that first day, he’d come around and help.” Dean nodded at Sam.

“Looking at this, though, he’d have to be almost as clueless about her as she would be about him. Otherwise, the experiment would be tainted.” Dean pushed the folder over to Sam, and they spent the next few minutes discussing experiment parameters and such. You considered your new-found talent as a “persuasive” while the brothers chatted. Had you ever used your gift without knowing it? Obviously not with Uncle Lloyd, or at least not successfully, but maybe with teachers or friends? Suddenly, a wash of different memories of times when you had debated issues and won hit you. Had you been using an unfair advantage? As you reviewed each instance in your head, one in particular stood out.

You had convinced Crowley to save the Winchesters. Without knowing what you were doing, or remembering that you were mimicking your grandmother at the time, you had persuaded Crowley to bring the brothers back to you. Hand on arm, eyes locked, and a desperate plea, and the King of Hell had done your bidding. You felt your face pale and your eyes widen.

Sam covered one of your hands with one of his and asked, “Are you okay, Y/N?” You looked up at him with your mind still blown.

“I persuaded the King of Hell to bring you back to the bar parking lot when you were fighting Rowena.” Your voice was soft and strained with the shock of what you had done. Both of their jaws went slack.

“Y/N? Do you mean you used your gift and _persuaded_ Crowley to do something?” Dean’s voice was incredulous. You nodded silently.

“Tell us exactly what happened,” Sam said. You told them about Crowley’s original plan to use you as a hostage if they failed to kill Rowena at that moment, and that he hadn’t planned on pulling them out of the apartment. However, after you asked him nicely, he had immediately rescued them. Not only that, he’d done it with a smile.

The brothers looked at you and then each other with wide eyes, then started talking more about how they could test you and wondering how far you could really make someone go against their own desires. While they chatted, you pulled out your phone and texted Cas.

YOU: Are you nearby?

CAS: Yes. Sam called me earlier and asked me to come and review his work, so I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than an hour. Are you okay?

YOU: I’m fine. We’ve got news about my abilities that I wanted to share with you. And I want to practice with you some more, if that’s all right?

CAS: It would be my pleasure. See you soon.

What followed was a string of emoticons your phone couldn’t read, and a few that showed up but still made no sense to you. You chuckled, and Dean looked at you with a smile. You held up your phone with a grin.

“Emoticons.” Dean laughed.


	19. Chapter 19

_Sam_

Watching how easily Dean and Y/N interacted almost made the door to his library open and spill out a dozen different feelings. Sam caught himself, though, and gave the door another lock.

Later that day, while Cas was reading his translation of the journals, Sam texted Hank to see if he’d be interested in helping Y/N. Hank agreed and said he could be there by the next afternoon. After telling the group that Hank was on his way, he pretended to work with Cas, while trying not to watch Dean and Y/N as they chatted. Every time he saw them together, they seemed so comfortable with each other. Why couldn’t he be that comfortable with her? The door to his inner library rattled, and he gave it a quick shove. Y/N laughed at something Dean was saying, and laid a hand on Dean’s arm as she threw her head back and held her stomach with her other arm. Sam’s library door rattled again. Dean moved his arm to the back of Y/N’s chair again as they put their heads together over the file. As Sam was concentrating on pushing at the door to keep it closed, Cas interrupted him.

“You have to air out the room, Sam, or it stops working,” Cas said, quietly. Sam’s eyes flew to Cas’s face, and Cas gave him a gentle smile. “You and your brother take pushing down your feelings to a level above that of other humans. What you’re doing to yourself with that room is a step above even that. You have to let it out sometimes, or the room won’t work when you need it to.” Sam felt a sliver of panic at Cas’s words, and felt the library door shake. Cas put a hand on his arm. “Go somewhere quiet and open the door, Sam, or it will break open whether you like it or not.”

Sam got up and tried to act casual as he made an excuse and headed to his bedroom. He sat down on his bed, and pictured opening the door to his library. In his mind’s eye, he saw books scattered on the floor and bookcases knocked over. He waded through the mess to the window and opened it. Sam let his mind wander.

Y/N smiling at Dean at breakfast. Dean putting his hands on Y/N to correct her stance during target practice. Y/N tucked under Dean’s arm while they watch movies. Dean teaching Y/N how to hit him when he has his arm around her neck. Y/N unveiling the apple pie she had made for Dean from his recipe. Y/N sitting next to him in the library, saying nothing, just being there, and the warmth that flowed from her to him.

Sam felt tears prick his eyes and he rubbed at them to stop the feeling. _So this is what happens when you shut things up for too long._ Sam laid back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. More images flitted through his mind. Y/N laughing at one of Dean’s stupid jokes. Sam felt a stabbing pain in his chest at that one. Y/N coming out of the shower in just a towel with her skin still flushed and damp. Sam’s face flushed and he turned onto his side. Y/N sleeping on the couch with her head in Dean’s lap. Sam pressed his hands into his eyes and groaned. Y/N kissing Dean.

Sam sat bolt upright in bed. Y/N hadn’t…. Had she?

Dean smiling at Y/N while she cooks in the kitchen. Dean putting his arm around Y/N whenever they sat down next to each other, which was always. Dean forcing her to watch his stupid movies, and smiling when she says she likes them, too.  As Sam had expected, Y/N was making Dean happier than he’d been in a long time.  Sam held his head in his hands. Dean had said he would go after Y/N if Sam didn’t, and Sam certainly hadn’t in deference to his brother. Sam just didn’t think Dean would actually do it. Sam didn’t think Dean would be willing to drag someone into this life.

Sam felt the burning pain in his chest and took a deep breath. Dean and Y/N. Y/N and Dean. Sam took another deep breath and let the misery wash through him. This is what he had wanted for them, but now that they seemed to be getting it, he was having a hard time being happy for them. He grabbed an empty beer bottle sitting on his night stand and threw it at the wall, enjoying the satisfying noise it made when it smashed into a million pieces. He ran his hands through his hair and took another deep breath. A quiet knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Sam? It’s Cas. Can I come in?” Sam grunted, and the door opened. Cas closed the door behind him, and then waved at the broken glass on the floor. In a flash, the glass was gone. Cas sat down on the bed next to Sam. “Would you like to talk about it?” Sam sighed, leaned forward so his elbows were leaning on his thighs, and studied his hands.

“I think I’m falling for Y/N. But I think she and Dean are getting together, if they aren’t together already. It’s been, what, a week or so, but they’re so comfortable around each other, and they’re always touching each other. I didn’t want to like her, because being here, being with us, is a death sentence. So, I’ve been keeping my distance, working on the journals, next is working on how to get rid of Rowena, because then she’ll be safe. And in the meantime, she and Dean are spending all of this time together, and getting close.” Sam ran his hands through his hair again and sat up with a sigh of frustration. “I wish I could be as comfortable with her as Dean is, without it putting her in danger. But it would. And Dean, who is usually the first person to back off and push someone away for their own safety, just waltzed right in.” Sam shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, I’m the last person to ask about human interpersonal relationships. The longest relationship I had with a woman lasted one night, and she killed me over grapefruit before breakfast.” Sam chuckled and Cas smiled. “All I can tell you is that you have to let these feelings out every so often, even if it’s just here, by yourself, in your room. Otherwise, you’ll explode.” Sam nodded.

“I get it, now. Thanks, Cas. And thanks for the mojo cleanup job, too. I’ll try to limit my blowups to non-breakable items in the future.” Sam chuckled and Cas smiled.


	20. Chapter 20

_You_

After Sam had gotten up and left so abruptly, you tried to concentrate on the file in front of you and Dean. The words kept swimming around in your field of vision, though, and when Cas got up and left, you gave up. Sitting back in your chair, you rubbed your eyes and sighed.

“I don’t know what his problem is, but I promise you, he’ll come around.” Your eyes flew to Dean’s, and the soft look on his face made you smile.

“I’d like to say I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not sure that would fly.” You gave Dean a weak smile and shook your head.

“Is he sending you bad vibes or something?” The confused, but caring, look on Dean’s face made you chuckle.

“Not exactly. He’s not sending me anything. For the most part, all I get from him these days is static. Just a gaping lack of anything, really.” You paused with a sigh. “Cas showed him how to close himself off so I can’t feel him. Cas said it was because Sam knows it can be exhausting, and he wanted to spare me what he could.” You shrugged sadly. “But it never bothered me. Cas is the only one that exhausts me. Feeling things from the two of you is actually kind of comforting.” Dean frowned at the sadness in your voice and pulled you awkwardly into his arms over the arms of the chairs.

“I’m sorry he’s doing that to you, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s got his reasons, no matter how wrong they might be.” Dean rubbed your back and took a deep breath. “I bet it hurts more since you’re falling for him, huh?” You stiffened in his arms, and then pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

“What? What makes you think that?” Dean let out a friendly huff and smiled.

“I’ve seen how you look at him over breakfast, or when the two of you are in here reading together.” You feel your face flush and you put your head in your hands.

“It’s so stupid. I feel like a teenager with a crush on a classmate.” Dean rubbed your back again and chuckled.

“It’s not stupid, Y/N. You can’t help how you feel.” You gave Dean a grateful look.

“If I would have been smart, I’d have fallen for you. You, I get. You are easy for me. Sam, he’s a riddle, wrapped inside an enigma, wrapped inside…well, normally I’d say a taco, but in this case…wrapped inside a hella got guy with great hair.” Dean laughed, but then put on a disgusted face.

“Dude, I don’t need to hear that my brother is hot, and that hair is on my to-do list.” Dean smiled at you. You pretended to be shocked and smacked him.

“Don’t you touch it!” Both of you dissolved into laughter and joking threats against each other as Sam and Cas returned to the room. You looked up at Sam and saw a flash of something before his face neutralized and he gave you a polite smile. Your heart ached at the smile, and the hand you had on Dean’s arm tightened. Dean patted your hand reassuringly before breaking apart from you.

“So, you nerds finally finished with the journals? Can the rest of us hear what crazy Uncle Lloyd had to say?” You smacked Dean again lightly, laughing at him. Dean flashed a cocky grin your way and then turned back to the other two, doing his best to make his face look serious. You could still see the twinkle in his eye and the tiniest hint of a smile, though.

“Cas went over what I did, and he made a couple of minor changes, but yes, we’re done.” Sam glared at Dean, and then pushed the journals and the notebook over to you. You stared at the pile of books with trepidation. Why did this make you nervous?

“Is there anything in there about me?” You looked at Sam with uncertainty, and got another polite smile in return.

“Well, there’s a lot of personal stuff in there about you when you were growing up after your parents died. I figured you’d rather read that stuff yourself, though. As far as your gift, and the Men of Letters is concerned, there’s a couple of things about that, too.

“He mentioned a little bit as you were growing up with him that he felt you pushing him. He says he always said no to pretty much anything you asked for to make sure he didn’t reward you for using your gift. He also talks about trying to hide things from you when you were so difficult to lie to.” You nodded and smiled.

“’Because I said so,’ was pretty standard in his house. It was a big change for me. My parents were always willing to explain everything to me. To suddenly live in a house where there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the rules really freaked me out. It took a while before we found a middle ground. Or so I thought. Maybe it just took a while before the reasons were ones he could tell me about.” Sam and Dean both nodded with you.

“Your uncle did get into hunting a bit, but he really was a Man of Letters, not a hunter. His shop was a hunters’ shop. He sold whatever hunters needed, and helped hunters with research if they asked. He sold the shop and did his best to get out of the life when you came to live with him because he didn’t want you getting into it. After you were grown and you moved out, he got sucked back in, it seems.” Sam faltered, and so did the static, giving you a quick shot of sadness and guilt before the static returned. You felt Dean’s arm move to the back of your chair.

“Sam? Just say it.” The tone in Dean’s voice worried you, and the fear coming from Dean didn’t help. You watched Sam struggle to keep himself together, and felt the static breaking up just a little to let out more sadness and guilt.

“He started getting calls from hunters again around 2007 or so.” Sam paused and looked down at his hands on the table. “Right after we killed the yellow-eyed demon.” The wave of sadness that came from Dean was almost visible to you. He immediately hung his head and sighed.

“When the Devil’s Gate opened and all Hell broke loose,” Dean said, quietly. Sam nodded. You stayed quiet, not even knowing what to say.

“He started researching and doing what he could without his shop. He kind of became like Bobby, only quieter, and less involved with field work. He wasn’t in much demand until after the Apocalypse started. After that, he was pretty much back in it full time. Being a librarian, he had access to a lot of research materials, so he had tons of hunters calling him. When he died, he was researching a demon that apparently wanted to curry favor with Lucifer, so was taking out hunters. His MO was to make it look like a heart attack.” Sam’s face was stoic, but the static coming from him was pulsing.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. You looked at Dean, and studied the guilt coming from him.

“What is it, Dean? Just tell me.” Dean looked at you so sadly you felt your heart ache.

“We were there when the Devil’s Gate was opened. We closed it again, but not before hundreds of demons escaped.” Dean studied his hands, refusing to look at you. You looked at Sam, and he was also studying his hands, or possibly the table, you couldn’t be sure which one. Turning to Cas, he was the only one willing to even glance at you.

“What the Winchesters don’t want to say is that we are the ones responsible for the Apocalypse. There were 66 seals that needed to be broken to free Lucifer from his cage, which was the beginning of the Apocalypse. Dean unknowingly broke the first. Sam was tricked into breaking the last. I was working with Heaven and had my own part to play, as well. We eventually stopped it…well, Sam stopped it…but it sounds like there’s a chance your uncle may have been killed by a demon released from Hell through the Devil’s Gate. Either way, that demon killed your uncle to curry favor with Lucifer.” You looked from Sam, who appeared to almost be shaking to stay in control, to Dean, who rubbed a hand over his face, and back to Cas, who just looked beaten down.

“So, what the three of you are trying to make me believe is that it’s your fault?” You watched all three men flinch. “So, the demon that actually killed my uncle…he isn’t responsible at all?” All three men looked up at you. “Because it sounds to me like any number of demons had a hand in my uncle’s death. Can I hazard a guess that the yellow-eyed demon was the one that opened the gate?” Sam and Dean sort of nodded and shrugged, then definitely nodded. “And I’m guessing it wasn’t Mother Theresa tricking you two into breaking seals.” The brothers both smirked and shook their heads. “And last time I checked, wasn’t Lucifer kind of a bad dude?” Sam winced, but Dean smirked. “So, how is it your fault? ‘Cause I don’t see it.” Dean chuckled.

“Well, if you’re going to put it that way….” Dean smiled at you and shook his head. “Leave it to you to try and let us off the hook.” You took Dean’s hand in yours, and reached for Sam’s.

“I don’t blame either of you. Though someday I want to hear more about this.” Both men looked unhappy with that request, until Cas chimed in.

“Well, she could always read the Winchester Gospels. They could give her an accurate….” Cas was interrupted by Sam and Dean both yelling over him. You looked at all three men with a smirk.

“The Winchester Gospels, huh? Are those sold at my local book store, or will I have to look for them online?” Sam and Dean both groaned and covered their faces with their hands. Sam’s wall of static came down for a long moment, and what you felt was pure embarrassment coming from both of them. You chuckled and pulled out your phone, opening up a search window. 


	21. Chapter 21

_Sam_

While Y/N was searching online for the stupid _Supernatural_ books, Sam watched Dean take out his phone and make a call.

“Got a question for ya, Crowley. Back when Lucifer was topside, there was a demon taking out hunters and making it look like a heart attack. Do you happen to know who it was?” Dean paused, and then grimaced. “No, I’m not going to make her ask you…. Crowley? Crowley!” Dean stared at his phone in anger and growled. “Dammit.”

“Give me the phone, Dean. I’ll do it.” Y/N spoke quietly, but firmly.

“No way, Y/N. He’s just being a pain in the ass. We’ll find out some other way.” Dean put his phone in his pocket. Sam felt a stab of fear in his chest when Y/N smacked Dean and held her hand out.

“Give me the phone, Dean.” Sam watched Dean stare at Y/N for a long moment, then take his phone out of his pocket and hand it over.

“Dean! What the hell?” Sam practically yelled at Dean. Dean looked at Sam with defeat in his eyes.

“Crowley likes her, and I have a feeling this isn’t as bad a thing as we might think it is.” Dean nodded towards Y/N, who was looking up Crowley’s contact in his phone. Sam watched in amazement as Y/N started the call, set it to speaker phone, and set the phone on the table in front of her.

“I wasn’t expecting to get a call back so quickly, Squirrel. She must really have you wrapped around her little finger. How does Moose feel about that?” Sam grimaced and snorted loudly.

“It’s me, Crowley, and I have you on speaker phone.”

“Well, hello, darling! It’s nice to hear your lovely voice. What can I do for you, my dear?”

“You can answer Dean’s question. There was a demon trying to curry favor with Lucifer by taking out hunters and making it look like a heart attack. Do you have any idea who that might have been?” Sam saw Y/N’s hands shake, and he resisted the urge to reach across the table and hold them.

“As a matter of fact, I do. But, I can’t help wonder why your boys are interested in such old news?” Sam’s heart ached as he watched Y/N take a breath to steady herself.

“Because we have reason to believe he killed my uncle.”

“Ah. I see.” Crowley was quiet for a moment. “Well, there’s no need for worry. That particular demon was killed quite some time ago. If you want, you can ask Moose all about it. I heard he’s the one that did the dirty deed, in the end.” Y/N’s eyes flew to Sam’s, and Sam just shook his head in confusion.

“Who was it, Crowley?” Sam hoped his voice sounded more even than it felt.

“It was your old pal, Brady.” Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he was back in that alley for a moment, looking at the face of his former best friend. The demon that carried out the order to kill Jess. Sam ran a hand over his face and then through his hair. Sam was brought back to the present by Crowley’s voice. “He did impress Lucifer by taking out hunters so quietly that not even other hunters suspected his involvement. That’s what got him the promotion to stable boy for the horsemen.” Sam felt Y/N’s eyes on him, and he struggled to close the door to his inner library room. The book titled “JESS” was propping the door open, though, and wouldn’t budge. Sam got up and left the library, hearing Y/N thank Crowley before hanging up.

When he got to the kitchen, he grabbed a beer from the fridge, drank it down in one go, and then grabbed a second one. He sat down at the table, took a long pull from the second beer, and set it down in front of him. He picked at the label for a moment, and then put his head in his hands, covering his face. The door to his inner library was wide open, and Jess’ book was sitting on the table, pages fluttering in the breeze. How she laughed, how she kissed, how she made those damn cookies for him the night she died. And Brady. Hours spent trying to get him back on track, to not lose everything. Sam imagined what the interaction between Jess and Brady would have looked like the night he killed her. Tears leaked between his fingers, and he wiped them away, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself. He felt the slight buzz from the beer start to settle in his muscles and he sighed. After emptying the second beer bottle, he put his head down in his arms.

He thought he heard footsteps, but didn’t raise his head. He felt someone sit down next to him, but he kept his head down. When he felt Y/N’s arms sliding around him, her body close to his, her head resting on his shoulder, more tears squeezed out of his eyes in spite of his fight to stop them. Part of him wanted to give in, accept comfort from Y/N, and feel the warmth she seemed to be trying to give to him. Doing that would lead to him falling for her even harder and make him want to get in between her and Dean. Y/N rubbed his back, and he struggled to regain his composure. Taking a deep breath, he closed Jess’s book in his mind, along with a new book he found with Y/N’s name on it, and put them back on the shelf. He pictured himself picking up the other books that were strewn around and carefully putting them away. As he was about to close the door behind him, Y/N spoke.

“Please don’t.” Sam paused. “I know what you’re doing, and I’m asking you not to.” Sam lifted his head and looked at Y/N, her head still resting on his shoulder. As he looked at her face, he felt the room shake behind him. He turned and took her in his arms, tucking her head under his chin and rubbing her back as she had rubbed his. Taking a deep breath, he quietly closed the door in his mind.

“Thanks, but…it’s for the best. For both of us.” He kissed her forehead, and then released her, getting up and heading to his bedroom. When he got there, he shut the door quietly behind him, then opened the door to his inner library. _Cas said it needs to air out, and right now, it really needs to air out._ Sam flopped down on his bed and let his mind wander until he fell asleep to dreams of Jess and Madison and Amelia and Y/N.


	22. Chapter 22

_You_

As soon as Dean had handed you the phone, you had felt Sam’s wall coming down. By the end of the conversation with Crowley, you were getting a steady flow of emotions from Sam. You felt tears prick your eyes as Sam left the room. When Dean explained who Brady was, you understood why. Dean didn’t stop you when you got up to follow Sam, just quietly wished you luck.

You felt the grief and the guilt from Sam before you even got to the kitchen door. Sam was at the table, resting his head on his arms, and a tear fell down your face at the feelings coming off of him. You felt everything ease as you sat there, rubbing his back, and then everything slowly faded. There was still some warmth to his touch when he hugged you, but that faded quickly.

You wanted to run after him and yell at him that it wasn’t the best for you, and how dare he presume to know what was best for you, anyway? You slammed your hand on the table and cursed. Going after him right now wouldn’t get you anything more than you had already gotten. Maybe you could talk to him later.

Back in the library, Dean and Cas were discussing the tests you were going to do with Hank the next day. When Dean saw you come in, and the sadness on your face, he immediately stood up and pulled you into a hug.

“How’re you doing, kid?” He held you away from him far enough so he could see your face and frowned when you shook your head. Dean pulled you close again and spoke softly into your hair. “He’ll come around eventually.” You nodded into his chest and sighed. Dean spoke a little louder and said, “How about with everything else? You hanging in there?” You pulled away from him and returned to your seat.

“Yeah. There was always some question about how he died, so now I know the answer. Knowing that the demon responsible is dead helps, too.” You smiled at the man and the angel, and let the conversation flow back to the appointment with Hank the next day.

On your way to your room, you stopped for a moment outside Sam’s room, and debated knocking. You rested your palm against the door, and felt Sam’s grief and guilt flowing through the wood. You wished you could send him love and comfort the way he was unconsciously sending you his pain. You closed your eyes and imagined you were doing just that, but only got another wave of guilt in return. You turned around and entered your own room, wiping away a tear.

That night, you found the books Cas had mentioned online and started reading. The writing wasn’t Shakespeare, but it had its moments. You read the first book in a couple of hours, and tried to picture the Sam and Dean that you knew as young men, almost still boys. The boys in the book were joking with each other, smiling, having sibling squabbles. Why didn’t the men in this bunker have any of that, anymore? You had a feeling you knew, and the answers would be in the books.

The next day was exciting for you, and you looked forward to even just leaving the bunker. The brothers had decided that you all would go to a motel to do the tests with Hank rather than have Hank come to the bunker and be distracted. Cas would keep watch at the door while Dean and Sam administered the tests. Dean spent the morning making you go over the few self-defense moves you had down, and helping you get used to carrying a gun in the waistband of your pants. After the emotion of the night before, you had hoped that maybe Sam would be more open to you, but when you sat across from him over breakfast, the familiar static was back, covered with a polite smile. After lunch, you all piled into the Impala and headed to the motel to wait for Hank.

When Hank arrived, Sam and Cas were outside, and you heard them give a brief explanation of what they needed from him. All they told him was that you were some kind of psychic, and they were trying to figure out what you could pick up on and what your parameters were. They would be asking him a bunch of questions, and he was supposed to lie for some of them, and let them know which answers were lies.

Before they even let Hank in, Dean blindfolded you. They didn’t want you to get any body language cues you could use later. They told Hank to sit across from you, and told him all small talk would have to wait until afterwards. You heard Hank sit down quietly, and then the tests began.

Cas had tried to teach Dean how to wall up his feelings like Sam did, but Dean wasn’t as good at it. You could still feel him sometimes, but you were able to tune him out and focus on Hank. Sam was asking the questions and tracking Hank’s answers, and Dean was keeping track of your guesses, which you expressed to him via hand signals. After ten initial questions, Sam had you take Hank’s hand, but stay blindfolded. Ten more questions, and then Sam removed your blindfold. You smiled at Hank, and he smiled back at you. The final ten questions were asked and answered, and then everyone took a deep breath.

Out of the first ten questions, you had gotten three wrong. Out of the second ten questions, you had gotten two wrong. You got all of the third set correct. As you looked over the questions, and remembered Hank’s answers, you questioned him on the two you had gotten wrong in the second round.

“Hank, these two questions. You marked #5 as a lie and #6 as the truth. Can you tell me more about these questions so I can understand?” Hank looked at the questions and paled.

“#5. Have I ever killed a human? I said no, because technically, I’ve only killed humans that were possessed, but if you think about it, there’s still humans in there. You just can’t always take the time for an exorcism, you know?” Hank looked at you and the boys sadly. “And #6. Have I ever been in love? Well, I’ve loved women, before, but I don’t know if I’ve been _IN_ love, if you know what I mean. Ain’t no place for love in this life, you know?” All four men nodded at that, and you wished that it wasn’t so natural to them to feel that way. Sam grabbed the sheet with the questions and tally marks, and looked over it.

“Well, with those two questions being a matter of interpretation, it seems like Y/N was dead on through the final two rounds. Taking away sight and touch only lessened her ability, but even then, she got more right than she did wrong.” Everyone smiled at that and you wondered at yourself.

Next came the part of the test that Hank didn’t know about. The five of you just sat around for a while, chatting, with you sitting next to Hank and paying special attention to him. You asked him about the women he’d loved, and asked him to pick one and tell you about her. The wave of affection that washed over you was sweet. Dean asked Hank about his last hunt, and you felt the fear and adrenaline and frustration with every turn to Hank’s story. When you asked Hank about his worst hunt, he didn’t want to talk about it. You put your hand on his arm, looked him in the eyes, and just gave him a small smile while asking him again. He shook his head, but started talking. By the end of the story, you were holding his hand in both of yours, tears shining in both his eyes and yours, as he talked about losing an old hunting partner. When he was done talking, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him, rubbing his back to soothe him.

When you all started packing up to leave, Hank paused for a moment, gently holding your arm with his hand. You looked up into his face, and he smiled at you.

“You ever need anything, darlin’, you feel free to call me, you hear? I’m sorry about how we met, but I’m not sorry we did. And with your psychic thing, you’d be a huge asset to any hunter when it comes to research and dealing with families. I’m sorry you got dragged into the life, but now that you’re here, you’ve got a friend, if you need it.” You pulled Hank into a hug and thanked him. You each added the other to your phones, and you waved as you parted.


	23. Chapter 23

_Sam_

During the drive back to the bunker, Y/N seemed excited about her newfound abilities. Sam knew he was almost sulking, while Y/N talked with Dean and Cas about how Hank had felt to her and how surprised she was that she could still read him blindfolded. Hiding his feelings from her without outright lying to her would be impossible, but now he knew for certain that she would see any lie coming a mile away, blindfolded. Finding out his feelings for her wouldn’t just endanger her, but would hurt Dean, as well. If she and Dean were as close as he suspected, he did not want to be what came between them. Sam was pulled out of his reverie by Y/N asking a question.

“Do you think Hank was right about me being helpful with interviews and such on hunts?”

Sam watched Dean’s reaction to the question, which was quiet. Sam knew he was radiating disapproval so hard that yogis in India could probably feel it, but he didn’t care. Cas answered carefully, while Sam did his best to glare at the angel from the front seat.

“Although I do believe your talents would be useful during the research portions of hunts, we would never want to put you in harm’s way that way.” Sam relaxed, releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“How would assisting with interviews be putting me in harm’s way?” Sam looked to Dean, hoping his older brother could express better what his own panicked mind couldn’t put into coherent words. Sam’s brain was spinning, with just one word repeating over and over: NO.

“Well, on an average hunt, interviews with police and victims’ families aren’t dangerous, but you never know. We’ve often found out later that the innocent family member who served us tea in little cups was actually the monster.” This seemed to give Y/N some thought, which made Sam relax. Until she spoke again.

“But if I was with you, then I could help you identify the monster faster by knowing when they’re lying. I’ve also wondered if monsters would feel differently to me than humans do. What if I can identify monsters by their feel? Wouldn’t that make hunts faster and easier?”

Sam stiffened again, and bit his tongue, hoping again that Dean could sound reasonable when he knew he himself could not.

“Sweetheart, that would imply that we want to risk having you anywhere near a monster, which we don’t. I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we’d like to keep you as far away from monsters as possible. It’s bad enough you’ve become Crowley’s bestie, quite frankly.” The car fell silent, and Sam took another deep breath, hoping that was the end of the conversation. The car was quiet for a long time, and Sam expected Dean to turn on the radio or pop in his Metallica tape.

“Aren’t there any female hunters?” Sam was beginning to doubt his system could take any more of Y/N’s questions. Why would she even consider this?

“It’s not a matter of gender, Y/N,” Cas replied. “If you were male, we wouldn’t want you hunting, either.” Sam stared out the window, restraining himself from snapping at Y/N. _Breathe in, breathe out. Close the door to the room so she doesn’t feel your panic._ Sam turned back to face Y/N.

“Y/N, you have a life, and we are going to get you back to it. The life of a hunter is short, and it sucks, and once you’re in it, there’s no getting out. You still have a chance at a good life without this crap, and we’re going to do everything in our power to get you back to that life.” Just as Sam finished his speech, Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage. Sam almost jumped out of the car and ran away from the conversation and to his room.

Once alone in his room, Sam let his mental library air out a little. As his mind wandered, he pictured Y/N sitting in the back of the Impala on the way to a hunt. Y/N talking with mourning families and helping them with their grief. Y/N enjoying a burger at a diner with him and Dean, laughing at something they said. Y/N identifying the monster in the room. The monster identifying Y/N as a threat and using her as a hostage. Y/N dying bloody. No. No way. He can’t let that happen.

Sam pictured Y/N opening a new store far away from Kansas. Maybe Dean would want to visit her in between hunts. Hell, what if Dean decided to quit hunting and start a family with Y/N? Could that even be possible for a Winchester at this stage of the game? Sam doubted it. Would Dean be able to give her up for her own safety, or would he really consider keeping her here at the bunker? Sam’s heart ached at the thought of watching Dean and Y/N settle down in the bunker. He would have to watch Y/N either get into hunting and get hurt, or go stir crazy from being cooped up all the time. Not to mention how he’d have to watch Y/N and Dean together. Kissing. Touching. Laughing. Even if a life in the bunker could be considered safe, Sam wasn’t sure he could handle watching his brother and Y/N together. If that somehow happened, he would have to leave. Not wanting to follow his thoughts any further down that road, Sam packed up his mental library room, shut the door tight, and headed out to the library to start finding a way to deal with Rowena. The sooner he found an answer to the Rowena problem, the sooner Y/N could get back to her life.

After grabbing a quick sandwich for dinner, Sam found Y/N sitting in her usual chair, next to his usual chair, reading his translation of her uncle’s journal. Quietly, he found the first book on witches he thought might have an answer for him, and he sat down to read. He found it difficult to concentrate on his book, when he could watch her reactions to what she was reading. God, she was beautiful. She wasn’t the type of woman you’d find in a fashion magazine; she was real. When she smiled, her face lit up and he couldn’t help smiling, too. Sam watched the smile turn into a quiet chuckle, and he quickly returned his eyes to his own book before she caught him staring. He checked his mental library, found the door was cracked, and shut it tight again. Sam wondered which of her teenaged antics she was reading about, now. Lloyd had recorded a few memorable stories from Y/N’s youth, a couple funny, a couple heartwarming, and a couple frightening. Sam looked up at Y/N again, studying her smile, and wishing he could find a way to be the reason for it without endangering her life.

After a couple of hours of trying to research, but actually just studying Y/N, Sam decided to give up for the night and go to bed. When he woke up in the middle of the night, sweating, panting, and rock hard, he told himself he didn’t remember who the woman in his dream was. Not that it mattered, anyway. She was only a dream.


	24. Chapter 24

_Sam_

In the following week, Y/N had finished reading her uncle’s journals and started reading about witches and doing other hunting-related research. Sam wasn’t too happy about it, except for the part where she was spending more time in the library with him than watching movies with Dean. Sometimes she would ask him questions about something she was reading, and they would have good conversations about lore that almost made him want her to stay in the bunker for good. Almost.

One day, Y/N convinced Sam and Dean to take her grocery shopping, and she made a lasagna and pie for dinner. Both were her first attempts, and both were good. While she was cooking, she set up her iPod to play some of her favorite music, and Sam found himself drawn to the kitchen. He pretended to be researching a possible hunt online, but really he was just enjoying watching her dance and sing to her music while she put together the meal. Her voice was beautiful, and Sam was enraptured. During an upbeat song that was obviously a favorite, Sam watched her swing her hips and toss her hair, forgetting he was even in the room. Sam shifted uncomfortably in his pants, which were suddenly too tight, and checked on his mental library door. Shut tight, thankfully. Later, Dean poked his head in, heard the strains of a Broadway tune, and immediately ran away, saying he’d only return if decent music was played. Sam was okay with that. After a particularly beautiful rendition of another Broadway tune, which was then followed by a rock song, which she also sang impressively, Sam finally got up the guts to compliment Y/N on her singing.

“Thanks, Sam.” Y/N smiled warmly and Sam almost blushed. “I worked my way through college singing and waitressing in a bar, as well as performing in the musical theater productions at school.”

“What did you go to school for?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure, then, and now that I have my liberal arts degree, I’m still not sure!” Y/N made a funny face and Sam laughed in spite of himself. “I once heard a joke that went something like, ‘Hi. I have a liberal arts degree. Would you like fries with that?’’’ Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Truer words have never been spoken. Four years of music, theater, philosophy, art, history, language, and English courses, and I’m qualified to do just about nothing that actually pays money. I’m kind of a jack of all trades, master of none. Except math. Can’t do math to save my life.” Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled, making Sam laugh. “So, I waitressed and sang on the weekends, tutored kids during the week, convinced myself that someday I’d write The Great American Novel and put my degree to good use, and I just needed to keep afloat until inspiration for that novel hit me. When Uncle Lloyd died, it made me rethink what I was doing, and that’s when I started working towards opening the shop. It took me five years to save up the cash, but it was worth it.” Y/N sighed and put her attention back on adding ingredients to the sauce for the lasagna.

“I’m so sorry you lost your shop, Y/N. You can get the insurance money and rebuild, though, right?” Sam hoped against hope that the answer was yes.

“I’m not sure. The insurance will cover either the business loan, or replacing the stock lost, but not both. If I used the money to reopen, I’d have to find the cash to pay the loan payments until the shop reopened. That could be months. I put everything I had into it the first time, so I have no savings left. I think I’m officially out of the occult bookstore business.” Sam felt his heart sink.

“I’m so sorry we cost you everything, Y/N.” Sam’s throat felt choked up, and he coughed to clear it. “If you want, we can try to hack the bank or something to help you get back on your feet and get the shop going again. It can’t be too much harder than the credit card scams we already use to pay for everything.” Y/N stopped what she was doing and looked at Sam with wonderment. She then walked over to him, looking at his face for a long while. Sam gave his mental library door a check and looked up at her. As she gazed at him, she pushed a lock of hair out of his face, and bent over and wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him an awkward hug. Sam held his breath, and then slowly tried to return the hug. Every part of him that she touched got warm and he struggled against the urge to pull her into his lap and press more of her body against his. When she pulled away, she kissed his forehead and smiled at him before heading back to the stove. Sam did his best to keep her from hearing as he tried to steady his breathing.

“You are so sweet, Sam, but I’m not sure I want to reopen the store. At least, not right now. Finding out that the store was something more than I thought it was changes things. I wanted the store because it was what my uncle did, and I wanted to continue what he was doing. Now that I know what he was actually doing, and that what he was doing was so important, I feel like my shop was kind of a half-assed way of going about things. If I were to reopen the shop, I think I’d want to do it the way he did and sell to hunters. If I decide to do that, there’s a lot of studying I’ll have to do. If I don’t want to reopen the shop, then I have to decide what I want to do next. The possibilities are both endless and non-existent. I can do anything I want, provided there’s someone out there willing to hire someone with a generic degree and no experience, which is highly unlikely in this economy.” Y/N paused her talking while she responded to the timer saying the lasagna noodles were done, turning off the stove and draining the pasta in the sink. When she had all the ingredients for the lasagna ready to be assembled, she spoke again, looking Sam in the eyes. “Quite frankly, I have no prospects right now. I’m not just talking jobs, either. I have no family, few friends that I keep in touch with, and no loved ones out there. There’s no life waiting for me out there, and you guys don’t want me here, so I’m not sure what I’m going to do once Rowena is neutralized.”

Y/N shrugged and started assembling the lasagna. Sam felt overwhelmed with guilt.

“Y/N, it’s not that we don’t want you here. We want you safe. And here isn’t safe.” Sam ran a hand through his hair and hoped the ache in his heart wasn’t leaking out the door of his mental library. Y/N paused what she was doing to look at Sam seriously.

“Sam, life isn’t safe. Crossing the street isn’t safe. Apparently, putting a protective symbol in a shop window isn’t safe. I know you don’t like it, but I think I don’t have much choice other than to embrace my heritage. At the very least, I want to learn as much as I can. Once I’ve gotten my degree in monsters, as it were, then I can decide what to do.” Y/N paused to let that sink in for Sam. “Can you at least be okay with me sticking around long enough to learn?” The burning in Sam’s chest felt like it would rip him in two. Sam stared at his laptop screen for a long moment before he answered. Part of him wanted to jump for joy. Y/N wanted to stay! The rest of Sam couldn’t stop seeing Y/N as yet another casualty in the war he and Dean had been fighting their whole lives.

“All right. I guess I don’t have much choice, do I? Something tells me once you have your mind set on something, you don’t give it up easily.” Sam tried to plaster a smile on his face and hoped it didn’t look too strained. Y/N smiled as she covered the lasagna in tin foil and put it in the oven.

“Pretty much.” Y/N gave Sam a megawatt grin and it helped Sam’s smile become more natural.


	25. Chapter 25

_You_

Reading your uncle’s journal had been an emotional roller coaster. He had documented some fun times in the midst of notes about monsters and demons. He had also written about his worries for you. He desperately didn’t want you to be in danger because of him, and didn’t want you left alone in the world if something happened to him. While reading some of the entries, pieces that hadn’t made sense at the time suddenly fell into place. By the end of it, you loved your uncle even more than you had before.

After you finished the journals, you turned to your secret reading assignment: the Supernatural books. You quickly zipped through another two books in a night, your heart breaking for Sam in the aftermath of losing Jess. Over the next week, in between training with Dean and practicing your persuasive skills with Cas, you got through all of the published works, and started on the unpublished books. If you didn’t recognize the occasional mannerisms, like Dean saying, “Son of a bitch,” and Sam saying, “So get this,” you’d almost be able to convince yourself the books weren’t real. But there was no denying that the Sam and Dean in the books was YOUR Sam and Dean. You found yourself falling asleep with tears dampening your pillow more than once, and you finally had to admit to yourself that you were no longer falling for the younger Winchester. You had fallen a long time ago. Between the heated thoughts you had about him at night, and the way you had to keep your distance from him physically during the day to stop yourself from touching him all the time, you were a mess. A mess that was in love with Sam Winchester.

The night after you read about Dean telling Sam what happened in Hell, you found yourself knocking on Dean’s door with tears in your eyes. You had to admit to him that you were reading the books, and you just needed to give him a hug and see that he was all right in your time. Dean hugged you and reassured you that he was all right, the two of you sat down on his bed and Dean chastised you for even reading the stupid books.

“Dean, I want to know what you’ve been through, but I don’t want to make you guys tell me. I mean, I’m just over halfway through the books, and I already can’t imagine making you guys tell me half of what I’ve read. There’s an easy way for me to know without making you guys relive it, so I’m taking it.”

“You really want to know about all of the crap we’ve waded through?” Dean looked incredulous.

“Of course, Dean. I love you guys, and I want to understand. You and Sam keep telling me how awful this life is, but if I based my opinion on the past few weeks with you, I would say hunting is great! We hang out in the bunker, I read interesting books about monsters, and watch movies with my best friend. Hell, even chatting with the King of Hell is interesting!” Dean gave you an exasperated look and you chuckled. “See? Right now, from my perspective, hunting doesn’t seem all that bad. But after reading what I’ve read so far, I’m learning that you guys are very obviously taking a serious break to take care of me. And I appreciate that more than you know.”

Dean looked at you steadily with a strange expression. “Best friend?” You smiled, and Dean grinned.

“Yeah. I never had many close friends when my uncle was alive because nobody understood how I put up with him, and he somehow scared people off. And I just haven’t been settled enough since he died to really put down roots anywhere or make friends since. The shop was my attempt to do that. So, yeah. You’re my best friend, Dean. I trust you, and I care about you. I care about both you and Sam a lot.” Dean put his arm around you and kissed your head.

“We care about you, too, kiddo.” You smiled at Dean, but felt your heart sink.

“I’m not so sure Sam feels the same way you do, Dean. He’s pretty anxious to get me out of here. I told him, and I’ll tell you, there’s nothing outside of this bunker waiting for me right now, and I’m having a hard time wanting to leave. So, my plan right now is to learn as much about monsters and hunting and what’s really out there, and then decide how I want to fit into this new world.”

“You don’t want to reopen the store?”

“Not right now. I can’t afford to, anyway. But maybe later I’ll reopen it and do what my uncle did. We’ll see. I know you guys don’t want me around here, so I’ll read and learn as fast as I can and get out of your hair.” Dean took hold of your shoulders and pushed you away so he could look you in the eyes.

“Y/N, it’s not that we don’t want you here. I can’t speak for Sam, but I love having you here. You brighten this place up so much, that I am dreading the thought of you leaving. But life around us isn’t safe. As much as we might selfishly want you to stay, we want you alive even more.” Dean let his hands drop and sighed. “You haven’t read far enough, yet, but I’m thinking you can guess. Ellen, Jo, Ash, Pamela, Bobby, Charlie, and so many others that you don’t even know about, they’re all dead because of us. I may joke about it with Sam, but so far, only one or two women in his life have lived to talk about it, and the same pretty much goes for me. You should be flattered we’re trying to kick you out. It means we like you.” Dean smirked. You smiled and blushed a little, looking down at your hands.

“That’s nice to hear, but I think Sam just really wants me out of his hair. He’s nice to me and all, but me being around has got to be exhausting with the way he shuts himself off.”

“Yeah well, I’ve been meaning to attack his hair with some clippers for years.” Dean smirked again and you chuckled. Dean pulled you in for a warm hug. “Don’t worry about him. He’ll get over himself eventually.”


	26. Chapter 26

_Sam_

A whole week of reading lore books about witches and spell books hadn’t uncovered anything that would help take out Rowena. They needed something that could disable her from a distance, before she had a chance to read a spell or wave a hand. Sam felt every passing day like a weight. Every day, he imagined Rowena finding another way to get to Y/N. Every night, when he opened up the door to his mental library, the book with Y/N’s name on the front got bigger and heavier. He wasn’t sure if it was another consequence of using the library or what, but he was dreaming of Y/N every night, now. Every morning he’d wake up frustrated, both mentally and physically. He’d never taken so many cold showers before in his life. Every time he saw her, his heart would do a little leap before he batted it back down. Sitting next to her in the library wasn’t helping his research, either. Quite frankly, he suspected he spent more time daydreaming about Y/N than reading. He chalked it up to wishful thinking when he noticed her looking at him. She was obviously falling for Dean. He even heard their voices in Dean’s room one night. He didn’t get much sleep that night, tossing and turning and dreading seeing the inevitable PDAs in the morning. When he didn’t catch them kissing over breakfast the next morning, he figured Y/N must not be the type to enjoy PDAs.

The day after he heard Y/N and Dean in Dean’s room, Dean stepped into Sam’s room and shut the door. Sam held his breath, waiting to hear the announcement that Dean and Y/N were together, and they’d be sharing a room from now on.

“I talked with Y/N last night, and you should know, she’s reading the books. She’s up to shortly after I got back from Hell. She is probably going to have some questions, and I didn’t want you to be surprised, especially since you’re doing your worst to shut her out.” Dean glared at Sam and Sam returned it. Dean sighed loudly and sat down on the desk chair across from Sam. “What are you doing, Sam? I mean, she thinks you hate her and it’s killing her.” Sam’s eyes flew up to Dean.

“What do you mean? Has she said something?”

“No, she hasn’t said anything! She doesn’t have to!” Dean was almost yelling. “I can see it all over her face, Sam. She’s never had close friends for one reason or another, she’s lost all of her family, she’s got no roots, and she’s trying to make connections while she’s here and you just keeping pushing her away. You’re hurting her, Sam.” Sam responded to Dean’s raised voice by raising his own.

“I’d rather hurt her feelings by pushing her away than have her decide she wants to stick around, just to turn into another casualty of our lives, Dean! She can still have a life away from this, and if me pushing her away encourages that, then that’s what I’ll do. I would think you would understand, especially after Charlie.” Sam watched his words hit home with Dean, and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, then rubbed a hand over his face.

“I hear ya. I do. But she’s in this, now, whether we like it or not. She’s not going to walk away from being in the life in some way, shape, or form, now that she knows. It’s too late to keep her from it, Sam. Whether we like it or not, she’s in, so get over it and quit being a jackass.” Dean stood up and stalked out of the room, leaving Sam to think about his words.

Y/N had told him herself that she was going to stay in the life, somehow. Just selling to hunters would have her in the life, and he doubted that she would restrict herself to just selling spell ingredients now that she knew about her abilities. She’ll want to help victims and get involved. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have even asked about it in the car after the tests with Hank.

Damn it.

And if she and Dean were getting together, then she’d be sticking around.

Double damn it.

Sam sighed. If she was going to be here, no matter what he did, then he might as well do everything in his power to make sure she’s prepared and ready for whatever comes at her.

Y/N was in the kitchen, trying out a new recipe for dinner. Sam stood on the opposite side of the island where she had all of the ingredients laid out, and waited for her to pause. He looked over the recipe and was surprised to find it was something that would align more closely to his tastes than Dean’s. He smiled a little, wondering what Dean’s reaction to a stir fry would be. Sam chuckled. At least it didn’t have tofu in it.

“Whatcha giggling about? You think I can’t do this?” Y/N looked at Sam with challenge in her eyes. Sam paused, evaluating her resolve, and shook his head.

“I think you can do anything you put your mind to,” Sam said quietly. Sam looked back at the recipe to avoid Y/N’s eyes. “I was imagining Dean’s reaction to a stir fry and thinking it was good it doesn’t have tofu in it.” Sam smiled, setting down the recipe. “But that’s not why I’m here. You said you want to learn as much as you can about monsters and everything else that’s out there. In that case, from now on, after you’re done training with Dean, you’ll report to me in the library, and I’ll teach you about what’s out there. That way, when you’re out in the world, you’ll not only be ready to fight, but you’ll know how to fight smarter. You need to know what kills what, and how to tell the difference between a skin walker and a shape shifter, for example. You also need to know Latin, how to properly perform a spell, and how to find ingredients, especially if you’re going to make a living selling them. I’ll also teach you how to research a hunt. And when Dean says you’re ready, I’ll join your sparring training to help teach you how to fight two attackers, or even just something bigger than my brother.” Sam smirked and Y/N beamed up at him. Sam got a warm feeling in his chest from that smile, and he tried to push it away. That smile belongs to Dean, not to him.

“Really, Sam?” Y/N spoke quietly. “You’ll help me? I thought you wanted to keep me as far away from everything as possible?” Sam sighed.

“I do, but if you refuse to stay away, then I have no choice. If you’re in, then you need to know as much as possible. This doesn’t mean I want you anywhere near actual hunting, but if something finds you, I want you to know how to kill it.” Y/N nodded, but was still beaming. She seemed to be vibrating, suddenly, and Sam wondered what the hell he had just done. Suddenly, she was around the island and slammed against him, her arms wrapped around his waist and her body pressed against his. He slowly wrapped his arms around her and hugged her back, closing his eyes and pushing a bookcase in front of his mental library door to keep it shut. His heart was beating way too fast and his throat seemed to close up a bit as he reveled in the feel of her pressed up to him. He rested his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes, wishing he could stay there forever.

As he heard heavy footfalls coming down the hallway, he jumped away from Y/N and cleared his throat. Dean came around the corner and his eyes found Sam’s. Sam hoped what he was feeling wasn’t written all over his face. Dean was distracted, though, by Y/N running over to Dean and bouncing excitedly as she told him what Sam had offered to do. Dean looked at Sam and grinned.

“Good to hear! You won’t get a better teacher for all of that nerdy stuff than Sam. Even Bobby was impressed with Sam’s Latin, and Bobby was no slouch himself.” Dean wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders and grinned down at her. “You’ll be spouting off exorcisms in no time, Princess!” Y/N grinned back up at Dean, and Sam felt the ache in his heart watching them together. Sam cleared his throat again and ran a hand through his hair.

“Well, if I’m going to play professor, then I’d better get my lesson plans together. Call me when dinner’s ready.” Sam pushed past Dean and Y/N and headed to his room. Once there, he shut the door and flopped onto his bed, face down. He opened the door to his mental library and allowed the jealousy to flow out for a minute. He pictured Dean and Y/N grinning happily at each other and punched the bed. He was going to have to find a way to handle these feelings without running away all the time.


	27. Chapter 27

_You_

The morning after Sam had offered to teach you about monsters, Dean walked into breakfast with a frown on his face.

“Sam, we need to go. There’s a hunt less than an hour from here, and three bodies dropped since last night. Whatever’s doing it is moving fast, and we’re the only ones close.” Dean grabbed a bowl of cereal and sat down to inhale it. Between bites, he explained the case. “Looks like one of those hippie vampires like in Hibbing last year, or maybe an extra-hungry werewolf. Claw and fang marks, blood drained, and some organs missing. Put on your Fed suit, grab a bag and be at the car in ten.” Sam nodded and got up to put his breakfast dishes in the sink. Dean turned to you as Sam left the room. “Don’t leave the bunker, don’t open the door for anyone, and keep your cell phone close. We should be back by tonight, if only to crash before heading back out there tomorrow. If you need anything, give us a call, okay?” You nodded dumbly and got up when Dean did to help him with his dish. Before he ran out the door, you stopped him and gave him a hug.

“Be careful, okay?” Dean rubbed your back as he held you for a long moment before letting you go.

“Always.” Dean gave you a heart-stopping grin that would have worked on you if you had only just met him in a bar. Since you didn’t feel that way about him, you just smacked his arm as he walked away.

“I mean it,” you yelled after him. A few minutes later you heard the Impala driving out of the garage.

The day was long with no one else around to talk to or keep you occupied. You did the dishes and some laundry, trying to stay occupied. You spent some time trying to read the book on witches that you had been looking at before, but your mind was on the brothers. You knew there was probably nothing to worry about, they had been doing this their whole lives, but you worried, anyway. You finally turned back to the Supernatural books, since they were easier to follow in your distracted state. Dean checked in with you a few times during the day, just sending you quick texts with info they’d learned as they were working and making sure you didn’t need anything. You told him you were fine, not letting on how you were worrying.

After dinner, you had settled into the library for more reading when you got another text message from Dean.

“Hunt done. Not animal, was a witch. Sam got cursed. He’ll be okay, but had to take measures to make him manageable until it’s out of his system. Not sure what I’ll do with him when we get there. Home in half an hour.”

Take measures? What does that mean? You fidgeted in your chair, twisting your fingers, wondering what kind of curse would leave Sam okay, but unmanageable. You felt an ice cold stabbing in your heart. You reminded yourself over and over that Dean said Sam would be okay. Whatever it is, you’d all just deal with it. He’ll be okay. _He has to be okay._

Your ears were perked for the slightest noise that signaled the return of the bothers, so when the Impala pulled into the garage, you heard it. You forced yourself to sit still and wait for Dean to come to you, not wanting to get in his way. After a moment, you heard Dean telling Sam to calm down, but instead of Sam’s voice, all you heard was muffled moans and groans.

“Y/N? Where are you?” Dean yelled.

“In the library. Do you need me to do anything?”

“No. Just stay there! I’m going to try to get Sam into his room!” You stayed glued to your seat, even when you heard noises from a scuffle and fast footfalls coming toward you. Dean started cursing loudly, yelling at Sam, and suddenly Sam came running around the corner towards you. He had duct tape over his mouth, and his hands were bound behind his back. Sam almost tripped coming up the stairs, and since he didn’t have his arms to help balance him, he half ran, half tripped the rest of the distance to you before falling to his knees at your feet. With his balance out of control, his body slammed into your legs, his head between your knees. You worked to catch him and helped steady him, and during the next few moments, you never even noticed Dean running in behind him.

As Sam got himself steadied, he looked up at you with the puppy dog eyes you had always heard about, but hadn’t yet experienced. He started trying to talk, but Dean had obviously gagged him underneath the duct tape, so all you heard was muffled noise. You looked into his eyes, and suddenly realized that his wall was completely down. Instead of the static you had gotten used to, you were overwhelmed with a wash of a thousand emotions. You held Sam’s head in your hands and searched his face, sorting through the cacophony. Sam stopped trying to talk and just looked at you, pleadingly. In a moment that seemed to last forever, one emotion finally became clearer than all the rest.

The warmth that was radiating from Sam took your breath away, and you started to smile. You thought Sam would be smiling, too, if his mouth wasn’t taped shut. You stroked his hair while you looked at the man kneeling in front of you in amazement. The feelings coming from him were so beautiful that tears pricked your eyes. You desperately wanted to take the tape off and hear what he had to say, but just then Dean interrupted your thoughts.

“He got hit with a truth spell. He can’t stop talking and telling any secret he’s ever known. At first, it was kind of nice, and we got to work through some things I didn’t even know were still festering. And one thing I didn’t even know was a problem. But when he started telling me about every gross and disgusting thing he ever did to Baby, I just couldn’t stand it anymore. I mean, he was naming names and getting graphic and I just couldn’t listen anymore, so I had to find a way to shut him up.”

While Dean was speaking, you just kept searching Sam’s face while he looked up at you quietly. You gave him a small smile and watched him sigh.

“A truth spell? So what I’m getting from him is the truth?” You looked up at Dean, who looked a little confused, but smiled.

“Um, yeah. If you’re getting something from him, then it’s got to be true.” While you were looking at Dean, Sam had nuzzled into one of your hands, and then laid his head in your lap. You looked down at him while he closed his eyes, and then smoothed the hair from his face.

“But if it weren’t for the spell, he might not want to say everything the spell will make him say, is that right?” You were still stroking Sam’s hair, and he was making little happy noises through the gag and duct tape.

“That’s right. The witch was trying to impress Rowena, so grabbed Sam, gave him the truth spell, and was making him spill his guts about the bunker or anything else he wanted to talk about. I found them and took out the witch, but this is the first he’s been quiet since then. And I’m reasonably sure he never wanted to tell me some of the things he told me before I taped him up. Some of it was downright embarrassing.” Dean chuckled. Your fingers itched to remove the tape and hear what Sam had to say, but you knew that wasn’t the right thing to do. Sam obviously had his reasons for hiding his feelings for you, and to make him tell you when he was under the influence wasn’t right. You caressed his face, and then lifted his head so he was looking at you.

“Sam, Dean’s going to take care of you until this curse is gone. When it’s gone, we can talk.” Sam looked a little panicked and whimpered, so you shushed him with a smile. “It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Sam seemed to calm when he heard that, and closed his eyes again. You kissed his forehead and gave him another smile when his eyes flew open. You motioned for Dean to help him up, which he did, and then Dean dragged Sam from the room, with Sam constantly looking back at you and trying to say something.

While Dean settled Sam, you closed your eyes and relived the warmth you had felt coming from Sam. There was no doubt in your mind that Sam loved you. Whatever else was going on that made him hide it would have to be handled, but underneath all of it, he loved you like you loved him.

You opened your eyes when Dean returned and flopped down in a chair next to you, whiskey and glasses in hand. He poured one for each of you and took a long drink from his.

“I ended up putting him in the dungeon. He can scream all he wants, and we won’t hear him, so I could take off the gag and untie him. Had to listen to a couple more stories of pranks he pulled on me that I never knew were him, but he’s safe for the night.”

“Did you say dungeon?” You squinted at the elder Winchester with a smirk. Dean laughed one of those full-body laughs that you loved.

“Yeah. We’ve got a dungeon. It’s in the back of one of the storage rooms. Complete with giant devil’s trap, demonic shackles, and all your other dungeonly needs. We kept Crowley down there for a few weeks while he was almost human. Hopefully Sam will get some rest down there.”

“How long do you think the spell will last?”

“Hopefully not too long. Sometimes they pass quickly, sometimes they take days.” You sighed and sipped your whiskey, making a face at the taste. Dean watched you, studying your expressions.

“What did you feel from him?” Dean asked quietly. You couldn’t stop the smile from taking over your face.

“Love. Amongst a million other things, but that was the primary feeling he was sending to me.” Dean smiled a gentle smile.

“He and I had a talk on the way back, before he went into his confessional about the car. He said he thought you and I were together. When I taped up his mouth, I finally got a word in edgewise, and told him you and I are just friends. From the way his eyes got big, I guessed he was happy to hear it.” Dean lifted his glass and toasted you with a smile. You studied the swirl of whiskey in your glass while you contemplated Sam and his feelings for you.

“I wonder if that’s why he felt he had to hide his feelings. Or if there’s something else?” You shrugged and swallowed the last of the whiskey with a grimace. “I don’t know how you drink this crap. Give me tequila any day!” Dean chuckled with you as you stood up. You each said your good nights and you headed to your room. You spent the rest of the night reading more of the Supernatural books to distract you from wondering how your talk with Sam would go. 


	28. Chapter 28

_Sam_

Waking up on the cold floor of the bunker’s dungeon was just as awful as anyone would think. You’d have to be demonic to deal with extended time without a bed or even a comfortable chair. The chair Crowley had spent so many weeks sitting on was anything but comfortable, and Sam suddenly felt a twinge of guilt for having kept Crowley for so long. That was, until he thought of Sarah choking to death right in front of him, then he wished the chair had had spikes in the seat.

Sam groggily rubbed his face and ran a hand through his hair. Why was he down here, again? He searched his mind. He and Dean went on a hunt. Vampire or werewolf, most likely. Fed suits, talking to cops, looking at bodies, finding knife cuts instead of claw marks, finding a matchbook for a club, splitting up with Dean at the club, and then darkness. Waking up in a warehouse with a witch… a spell…

Sam groaned. Dean had ganked the witch; Sam had told Dean he knew about Rhonda Hurley and the panties. Sam held his head in his hands. Dean had untied Sam; Sam had told Dean about how much the voicemail Dean had left for him the night before Lucifer rose hurt him. That had sparked an interesting conversation, since Dean hadn’t left the voicemail Sam remembered, but a different one. Dean had cursed Zachariah and Ruby while he burned the witch’s body; Sam had told Dean about the dance lessons Jess had made him take, and how the teacher had said Sam had a future in competitive ballroom dancing. Then, Sam had gone on to talk about a few of the various brotherly pranks he had played on Dean when they were kids. Sam started hitting his head against the wall. Dean had finished cleaning up the scene; Sam had told Dean that he knew that Dean and Y/N were together. Dean had stopped what he was doing and stared at Sam. Sam had then told Dean about the time he and Ruby had had sex in the Impala while Dean was in Hell. Dean had suddenly tackled Sam to the ground, stuffed a rag into his mouth, put the duct tape over the rag, and tied Sam’s hands behind his back. Sam had kept trying to talk, trying to tell Dean about each time he had dinged the car, had sex in the car, had a dog in the car, but the rag and tape muffled his words. Sam kept hitting his head against the wall. Oh, this was going to be BAD.

After Sam was muffled, Dean had said something. Dean had had to talk over Sam’s noises, but Sam had heard him. Dean and Y/N weren’t together. They were just good friends.

Sam stopped hitting his head on the wall.

Dean and Y/N weren’t together. Dean said she was starting to fill a bit of the hole Charlie had left, but that was it.

Y/N wasn’t in love with Dean.

Sam replayed the rest of the night in his head. The drive, complete with all of his muffled confessions. Then getting into the bunker, hearing Y/N’s voice, and breaking away from Dean because HE HAD TO TELL HER.

Sam put his head back in his hands again, covering his face.

The trip up the library steps. Falling literally into Y/N’s lap. Looking up at her and trying to speak. Her eyes as she looked into his, searching for something. And then the smile. Her questioning Dean about the spell, and her SMILE. Y/N stroking his hair, telling him they would talk when the spell passed and that it was okay.

Sam smiled. 


	29. Chapter 29

_You_

Waking up the next morning, full of the knowledge that Sam loved you, was easy. Somehow, even in the windowless bunker, the day seemed brighter. Overnight, you had read into the time after Lucifer had risen. You now knew about the demon blood, and the idea that the Sam you knew had gone through all of that and come out the good man he was now just made you love him more. When you walked into the kitchen for breakfast with Dean, you felt like you were floating.

“Morning, sunshine! Good night?” Dean raised his coffee cup to you and smiled.

“Yeah. I read some more of those books, and got a little sleep.” You smiled shyly, feeling your face flush, even though there was no reason for it. Dean chuckled.

“I haven’t seen you this happy, well, ever. It can’t be because of those books. They’re darker than shit. How far are you, now?”

“Lucifer was freed, War was defeated, and you tried to get Cas laid.” You giggled and Dean chuckled. “Seriously? You tried to get him laid?” Dean tried to look serious but failed, making you laugh even harder.

“Seriously. Dude needs a woman. When he finally did get laid, she killed him over breakfast with his own angel blade.” Dean chuckled at your shocked expression, then shook his head sadly. “Yeah well. That’s a story for another day. I’m heading down to the dungeon to check on Sam. I’ll be back in a bit, and hopefully he’ll be with me.” Dean patted your shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen.

While you drank your coffee and ate your cereal, you wondered how the talk with Sam would go. Butterflies fluttered endlessly in your stomach until you gave up trying to eat and headed to your room. The only thing that would distract you from the impending talk would be the books. You settled down to read, and had gotten through a couple of chapters when there was a soft knock on your door.

“Y/N? It’s Sam. Can I come in?” Your heart jumped into your throat and you had to cough so you could speak.

“Yeah, Sam. Come in.” You put aside your phone with the reader app you were using to read as Sam walked in. He had obviously showered and changed, his hair still a little damp. He looked around nervously before sitting down in the chair by the desk. You felt the heat in your cheeks as you glanced up at him, then studied your hands. There was a long pause before Sam finally spoke.

“I, uh, I thought that you and Dean were, uh, you know.” You looked up at Sam and saw the same nervous flush in his cheeks that was on yours.

“God, no! Dean’s like the annoying big brother I never had.” You gave Sam a jokingly disgusted face and then smiled at his smile. “Besides, I kind of have a thing for his little brother.” You felt the heat increase in your face, which you hadn’t thought possible, and then saw the smile on Sam’s face get even bigger. “That’s why you shut yourself off and kept sending me static?” You felt your smile falter, and so did Sam’s.

“That was part of it. In the beginning, I just didn’t want you to have to deal with my feelings on top of everything else you were going through, especially when I didn’t even know what my feelings were. When I finally started to figure out that I liked you more than just as a friend, I kept seeing you and Dean together. I mean, you make Dean smile and laugh more than he’s done in years, and he warmed up to you so fast it made my head spin. Seeing you together on the couch, or laughing at private jokes, well, I was happy for the two of you, and I didn’t want to mess it up for you guys.” Sam shrugged and stared at his hands. You felt a myriad of emotions coming from him across the room: love, sadness, and fear were chief among them.

“Man, they don’t make men more perfect than you, do they, Sam?” Sam’s eyes flew to you as the burn took over his cheeks. He smiled shyly, then shook his head sadly.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m far from perfect,” Sam said quietly. You peered at his sad face and felt the rush of guilt wash over you. Reaching over, you grabbed his hand, and pulled him down so he was sitting on the bed next to you. You held one of his hands in both of yours, taking a moment to admire how big they were compared to yours. You rested your hands, with his nestled in between them, in your lap and looked up at him.

“Nobody’s perfect, Sam. But near as I can tell, you’re perfect for me, and that’s all that matters to me.” Sam’s gaze met yours, and then he hung his head again.

“I’ve done some really awful things, Y/N. Really awful. You can’t imagine….” You shook your head and when he wouldn’t look at you, you stood up and sat down sideways in his lap. You dropped his hand and put your hands on either side of his face. His arms wrapped around you to hold you steady on his lap. Your eyes searched his face for a long moment while you stroked his hair.

“I don’t believe that there’s anything you could have done that would be so awful that you couldn’t come back from it. It’s just not in you, Sam. You are a good man. You always do what you think is right, no matter what it costs you or how much it hurts. You were willing to let your brother live happily ever after with a girl you wanted. If that’s not a good man, I don’t know what is.” Sam was trying to shake his head, but your hands were stopping him. When you thought he might actually pull his head from your hands, you lowered your lips to his and kissed him.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it was enough to stop Sam’s movements. His arms pulled you tighter to him, his fingers pressing into your skin. You pulled your lips away, but your foreheads stayed together. You nuzzled his nose with yours and smiled.

“I think I might be in love with you, Sam Winchester, and I will not allow anyone to speak badly about you, least of all you.” Sam pulled his head away from yours so he could look you in the eyes. A small smile played on his lips while his gaze flicked over your face and back to your eyes.

“I think I might be in love with you, too, Y/N,” he said quietly. You smiled at him and lowered your mouth to his again. Although this kiss started out chaste and gentle, it quickly deepened, with your mouths opening and your tongues dancing. One of his hands moved up to your neck and tangled in your hair while the other moved across your lower back, holding you close to him. When the kiss finally broke, Sam moved his lips down your jaw to your neck, setting off fireworks between your thighs. You gasped and clutched at his hair, not sure if you wanted him to do more or to stop. He stopped, simply burying his nose in your hair and clutching you close to him.

“I have wanted this for so long. To have you here.” Sam was almost mumbling into your skin as he spoke. He held onto you like he was drowning and you were his life jacket, and you rubbed his back and stroked his hair to soothe him.

“I’m here, now. For as long as you want me here.” Sam made a choked sound in his throat and suddenly pushed you away. You were still on his lap, but he pulled your arms from around him and held both of your hands in his. He spoke fiercely while staring at your entwined fingers.

“That’s the problem. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you anywhere near me or my life or any of the crap that comes with it.” Sam raised his head to look you in the eyes, and you could see all the love and the pain in his heart. “I want you out in the world, somewhere, far away from demons and witches, living a life that includes a white picket fence, 2.5 kids, and a dog. I don’t want you locked up in this bunker, or even worse, out on hunts with us, where anything can find you and hurt you.” Sam moved his hands to cradle your face while you felt the fear rolling off of him in waves. “I want you safe, alive, and happy, and I don’t see how you can be any of those things if you’re with me.”

Sam was breathing hard, and you found yourself breathing hard, too. Tears pricked your eyes and you took a deep breath before you responded.

“Safe is relative, alive is temporary, and I don’t see much happiness without you. The hours since I felt your feelings last night have been the happiest I’ve ever known, Sam. And being right here, in your arms, this is Heaven to me. Life is short and you lose people you love. I know that just as well as you do, but I refuse to let it take away whatever happiness I find. Now that I’ve found you, I’m not letting you go, no matter what.”

Sam’s hands had dropped back to your waist while you spoke, his fingers pressing into your skin showing you the tension he was feeling. You slid a hand around his neck and brought him to you for a kiss. As the kiss deepened, his arms pulled you close again, his hands moving up and down your body. When you came up for air, he pulled your head into his shoulder and held you so tightly you almost couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t know what to do,” Sam mumbled. “I just don’t know.” He suddenly lifted you off of his lap, setting you down next to him on the bed, got up, and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. A long moment passed before you remembered to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam Winchester is a frustrating son of a bitch, ain't he? The end of this chapter pissed me off, and I was the one writing it. Hopefully you'll forgive him soon!


	30. Chapter 30

_Sam_

The burning ache in Sam’s chest refused to go away, no matter how hard he tried to distract himself with research. Lore about witches and spells only reminded him of why he was reading lore about witches and spells.

Part of him was yelling at him to go to her. Love her while he could. Enjoy just a little happiness before he pushed her away for her own safety. The rest of him didn’t want to know how happy he could really be knowing that it would end. He was trying to read, but was actually fighting this internal battle when Dean sat down next to him with a thud.

“Honeymoon time over already?” Dean winked at Sam and smirked. Sam tilted his head and gave Dean his best bitch face, then turned back to his book. “Sam? You didn’t talk to her? You’re just letting her sit in her room and wait for you? What the hell, Sam?” Dean was almost yelling, now, so Sam couldn’t ignore him anymore. Sam closed the book and pushed it away.

“We talked, okay?” Sam pushed a hand through his hair. “We talked, and it was nice, but being with me, being here, is a death sentence, Dean, and I won’t do that to her.” Sam looked up at Dean, and was taken back by the fierce anger on his brother’s face.

“So, what, you love each other, but you’re just going to keep pushing her away, is that it?” Sam sighed at Dean’s tone.

“Yes. Exactly. There’s no point in pursuing anything if it’s just going to end when she leaves. And she will leave. She has to leave to stay safe.” Sam watched Dean’s face change from angry to astounded.

“You stupid asshole. Well, if that’s how you feel, why don’t we just lay ourselves out in the road right now and let a couple of 18-wheelers take us out? There’s no point in living if it’s just going to end bloody, right?” Sam’s eyes widened at Dean’s words. “Bullshit, Sam! We fight! That’s what we do! So, instead of fighting for this thing you have with her, you’re just going to roll over and let it go?”

“Since when you are all for bringing someone into this life that still has options, Dean? She still has options!”

“Yeah, but she’s not going to take them, and you know it. She’s already told us, she’s in it, and I thought you had accepted that when you offered to teach her. When did you change your mind?”

“I agreed to teach her so that she’d know how to defend herself when she left, not so that she could stay.” Sam’s voice choked out as the thought of her leaving stole the air from his lungs. Dean shook his head.

“I can see what just the thought of her leaving is doing to you, Sam. You can’t push her away like that. We’ll figure it out, Sam. We’ve got the bunker, now. Keeping her safe has never been easier. We can do this.” Sam looked up at his big brother, trying not to have hope.

“We couldn’t keep Kevin safe, Dean, and he was practically locked in here.” Sam shook his head sadly, remembering the vision of his hand on Kevin’s head as Kevin died. Dean’s face fell, but he refused to give up.

“We’re smarter, now, Sam. And dammit, you deserve a little happiness after all the crap I’ve put you through. We both do. You can’t tell me she wouldn’t make you happy, and I already told you what she means to me.” Sam watched as Dean pleaded with him. “Don’t push her away because we were stupid before. We can protect her, Sam.” Sam looked helplessly at his brother.

“Do you really think we can, when we’ve always failed so miserably?”

“I think it’s worth the shot, Sam.” Sam allowed a sliver of hope into his heart. With Dean by his side, both promising to protect her, maybe they could make it work.

“All right,” Sam said quietly. “But protecting her comes before everything else. If it comes to it, I’ll send her away if it means saving her life.” Dean nodded with a smile.

“Fine. And on that note, I’m going to find somewhere else to be for the next few hours so you two can have some privacy.” Dean winked at Sam while Sam rolled his eyes with a smile. “Text me if you need me to find a motel for the night!” Dean laughed as he stood up and headed for the door. Sam just shook his head, biting back the worry about his brother being vulnerable to a witch attack while he and Y/N were otherwise occupied. Sam sighed. Rowena really needed to go. Soon.

Sam shook his head to clear out thoughts of Rowena, and replaced them with thoughts of Y/N. Sam smiled. Although part of him still wanted to push her away for her own safety, he squashed that part and allowed himself to think about a future with Y/N. The thought still made him nervous, but it was slowly getting overwhelmed by thoughts of waking up with her every morning and falling asleep with her every night. He still had so much to learn about her, and he couldn’t wait.

Before he knew it, he was knocking on Y/N’s door. When she opened the door, he took a moment to just take the sight of her in. Soft hair, bright eyes, quiet smile, generous curves, and a heart that he knew wouldn’t let him give up, ever. He couldn’t slow himself down when he roughly pulled her into his arms and crashed his lips onto hers. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand here's your first dose of smut. Sorry it's not great, but they've been holding back for so long they just wanted to get it over with.

_You_

Sam’s kiss almost threw you for a loop, but soon he had you moaning into his mouth and wanting more. You had completely forgotten what breathing was when he pulled his lips from yours. Your arms were around his neck as he held his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and groaning.

“Part of me still wants to tell you to run away from here, from me, and don’t ever look back.” You pulled your head from his just far enough that you could look into his eyes as you stroked his hair.

“What changed your mind?” You saw, as well as felt, the warring emotions on Sam’s face.

“Dean. He basically told me if I didn’t fight for you I might as well go play in traffic.” Sam smiled as you chuckled. “If we’re going to do this, though, then you have to promise that your safety will always come first.” The wave of fear that washed over you was intense. “If I say you have to do something, you do it, even if that something is you going away.” Sam’s voice choked off, and the fear intensified. You took a deep breath before speaking, stroking his hair gently with your hand.

“I can promise you that I will always talk to you about everything, and I will always respect your opinion as an experienced hunter. I have to admit, though, promising to leave when the going gets tough just isn’t in me, Sam. I’m not a child, and I will fight if I feel I need to.” You felt Sam channel all the desperation he was feeling into the kiss that landed on your lips. His hands went from on your back down to your ass, and before you knew what he was doing, his hands had lowered to your thighs. He picked you up easily, spreading your legs until you wrapped them around his waist. With his hands cupping your ass while he supported you, he kicked the door shut behind him and walked you over to the bed. You were only vaguely aware of what he was doing outside of his lips on yours and his tongue dominating your mouth. When he laid you down on the bed and settled on top of you, his elbows supporting most of his weight, he moved his lips from yours, trailing kisses down your jaw to your ear.

“You are going to frustrate the hell out of me, aren’t you, Y/N?” He was practically growling into your ear, and you felt the vibration go straight to your panties. As he placed open-mouthed kisses on your neck, he shifted his hips, and you suddenly felt the rock hard bulge in his pants as he ground it into your core. The moan you made was almost inhuman to your ears as a shot of heat spread through your body. You struggled to clear your mind enough to find words to answer him.

“That sounds like me, Sam.” Your words were cut off when he took your earlobe into his mouth and nibbled, tugging on it softly before finding another spot on your neck with his lips and tongue. You started moaning his name like a prayer as his hips moved against yours.

“Then I guess I’m just going to have to find ways to work out my frustrations,” Sam growled, then lifted his head to give you a half-serious, half-cocky expression before taking your mouth with his again. The feel of him all around you overwhelmed you, with his hands underneath your shoulders pulling you towards him and his hips trapped between your thighs grinding into you rhythmically. You pushed a hand deeper into his hair and tugged on it until he pulled his lips from yours with a groan. You pulled in a deep breath, trying to find words to express what you were feeling before you were completely lost.

“Are you sure, Sam?” Your voice was completely wrecked and your words were little more than breathy moans. “Can you be okay with me being here,” you pulled his head closer to you and kissed his jaw, “no matter how dangerous it might be?” Sam groaned and buried his head in your neck.

“I’ll have to be, because I’m not sure I could ever be okay again without you, now that I have you.” Sam’s lips were on your neck again, sucking and licking what you figured would be an impressive mark when he was done, but it felt too good for you to care. The growl in Sam’s voice made you dizzy as he worked his way down your collarbone, saying, “Mine” with each touch of his lips. When his lips reached the edge of your shirt, he rolled you both over so you were on top of him and then sat up. His hands quickly slid down your back, grabbed the hem of your shirt, and pulled it over your head. You worked at the top buttons of his shirt, but he quickly got impatient and pulled it over his head. You took a second to admire the vast expanse of muscled skin before you leaned in to taste it. Sam’s hands were huge and warm on your back as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. You leaned back enough to give him space to pull it from your arms, and blushed at the lust-blown expression on his face as it sailed across the room. He didn’t give you a chance to try and cover yourself, simply taking a breast in each hand and kneading them. He looked into your eyes for a moment before he spoke.

“God, you’re so perfect.” One hand left a breast and slid up behind your neck to pull your lips to his again.  His other hand slid around your back, pulling your hips closer to his until you moaned. He lay back down, with you on top of him, then rolled you both over again so he was once again on top. When he had you where he wanted you, his lips trailed down your neck to your chest, and he took one already hardened nipple into his mouth while his hand tweaked and played with the other. Your hands tangled in his hair as your back arched into him and you moaned his name again and again. You were panting hard, now, and started to wonder if he could make you come just from this and the pressure of his hips on your core. Sam’s lips met your mouth again for another desperate kiss, and you slid your hands down his back and into the back of his jeans. His hips jerked into yours as your fingertips pressed into the firm flesh of his ass, and he groaned loudly when the kiss broke and he arched upwards. You looked up at him as you bucked your hips up, pulling at his ass with your hands.

“Still too much clothing,” you groaned before his lips crashed down on yours again. He shifted so his hips were out of your reach, then trailed kisses down your chest, between your breasts, and settled for a moment at your navel. His lips vibrated against your skin as he spoke.

“I agree.” He opened your jeans, and pulled both them and your soaked panties down your legs. When you were completely uncovered, you shivered once in the cold air before he was pressed up against you, warming you with his hands and his mouth. His mouth was teasing your nipple again while one hand caressed your thighs, slowly opening them before teasing your wet folds with his fingers.

“You are so wet already, baby,” Sam groaned, as he worked two fingers inside of you. He rested his forehead on your chest while slowly working his fingers into you. Your hips started bucking and you wanted more. More of his mouth, more of his fingers, more anything, as long as it was him. “You’re going to feel so perfect around me,” Sam moaned into your chest before his lips took your nipple again and his thumb found your clit. Your nails were digging into his back, now, undoubtedly leaving scratches as you writhed beneath him. He had barely begun thrusting his fingers into you with a rhythm when your first orgasm slammed into you. You cried out his name as you fell apart around his fingers and clutched at his hair and his back. He gently worked you through it, moving his mouth up to your neck as you came down.

“I want to watch you do that over and over again, but I don’t think I could stand it right now.” He sucked on a spot by your ear as goosebumps spread over your body from his words. He slowly removed his hand from between your thighs, and you watched as he put his wet fingers in his mouth and sucked them clean. His hand went back to your breast, kneading gently, while he kissed you deeply so you tasted a little of yourself on him, then went back to sucking on your neck while you tried to catch your breath.

“Y/N, there’s so much I want to do to you, but I don’t think I can wait anymore. Do you have a condom in here, or do I have to figure out how to walk all the way across the hall to my room and back knowing you’re lying here all warm and beautiful?”

You voice was little more than a whisper when you responded, “I’m on the pill, and I’m clean if you’re clean.” Sam groaned into your neck and pushed the bulge in his jeans into your hip at your words. You reached a hand down his back into the back of his jeans again, and Sam almost jumped away. As an apology, he kissed you deeply, though he kept out of your reach.

“If you do that again, this is all going to end in a minute, and I’d really prefer not to come in my pants like a teenager.” Sam chuckled at your groan, then got up, removing his pants and his boxers in record time. You saw his arousal, and you reached to touch him, but he grabbed your hands and pinned them to the pillow above your head. “Like I said, I’d like this to last more than a minute.” He spread your legs apart and started kneeling between them as he spoke. “So, no touching for right now,” he paused long enough to give you a gentle kiss, “okay?” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before his mouth was on yours again, his tongue searching out yours. He let go of your hands, but you kept them where he wanted them, and you felt him smile as his lips left yours. You almost didn’t even hear what he said as he started to run both of his hands down your arms to your sides. “Good girl.” His hands cupped your breasts, kneading them for a moment. “So beautiful.” You moved your hips, trying to get closer to him, and he let go of your breasts so he could grip them firmly. “So anxious.” He smirked at you while he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs and pressed the rest of his fingers into the flesh of your ass.

“Sam….” Your voice was almost a whine, begging him to stop teasing you and do something. “Please, Sam.” He let go of your hips, but leaned back over you, fitting himself between your thighs, pulling one leg up and around his waist. His cock was now in line with your folds, and he shifted so the head hit your clit while the shaft slid against your wet slit, making you cry out. He rocked back and forth, teasing the both of you until you were begging continuously. He paused for a moment, then let go of your thigh to line to himself up and slowly enter you.

You stopped breathing until he was completely seated inside you, then let out the breath you had been holding. Sam’s lips met yours, and he groaned into your mouth.

“You feel better than I imagined. So good, Y/N.” He nibbled at your jaw and then your neck until you started moving your hips against his. He slowly started moving, with just gentle rocking at first, and then building to actual thrusts while he gripped your hip with one hand and supported himself over you with the other. “Oh, God, baby, you feel so good. You’re so beautiful. I’ve wanted you from that first moment I saw you and you fell into my arms. I’ve been going crazy dreaming about this moment, right here, with me inside of you making you feel good.” Sam’s words were punctuated with grunts and groans as his movements became more focused. You were feeling the warmth building in your core again at the feel of him inside you and at hearing his words.

“Sam, I’m close again…” you moaned, and he groaned in response, then moved his hand between you to your clit where he started rubbing circles to match his thrusts.

“I want to feel you, Y/N… I want to feel you come around me, baby. Let it go. Come for me.” Your vision went white and you saw spots as your second orgasm ripped through you. You cried out Sam’s name again, and felt his hips stutter as he came right behind you. You kept moving together without focus, working each other through it, until you finally fell apart, panting. Sam lay next to you, and pulled you to his chest while you both caught your breath. As he littered your face and neck with gentle kisses, you chuckled.

“Can I move my hands, now?” You smirked down at Sam, and then felt a spear of desire shoot through your belly at the flash of lust you saw cloud his eyes at your comment before he chuckled, too, and nodded. You wrapped your arms around him, tangling one hand in his hair, and the two of you spent a few minutes just indulging in lazy kisses. When he finally settled you next to him with a happy sigh, you took a moment to enjoy the sound of his heart beating in his chest next to your ear. You closed your eyes and basked in both the physical and emotional warmth coming from Sam.

“I’m so glad you decided to fight for this,” you said quietly. Sam moved a hand to your head and stroked your hair gently.

“So am I.”


	32. Chapter 32

_Sam_

The few days after their first afternoon together were almost heaven. Sam found he could easily forget the dangers facing them when he was watching Y/N sleep curled into his side. No longer worrying about his mental library reduced his stress enormously, too. He still had moments where he was jealous of Dean and Y/N, but without fail, Y/N would always slip her hand into one of his and give it a squeeze. Y/N’s days were full. She was training with Dean in the mornings, spending an hour with guns and another two hours with hand-to-hand fighting, then studying Latin and mythology in the afternoons with him. When she declared her brain to be fried for the day, Cas would help her practice her persuasive talents. Sometimes she would ask Dean if she could practice on him, and Sam enjoyed watching Dean squirm as she would make him answer embarrassing questions. Sam sometimes wondered if she ever used her talents on him, but was afraid of the answer. When he finally got up the nerve to ask one day while eating lunch, he was pleased with her response.

“Never, Sam. I don’t want there to be anything forced or coerced about us. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us if I did. The emotional connection we have because of my gift is already a bit of an unfair advantage sometimes.” Y/N blushed, and Sam wondered what she meant. She moved closer to him, and then wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her head on his shoulder. Automatically, his arms wrapped around her and he sighed happily. “What I mean by that is I can read you so easily, now, that I wonder if I react to your thoughts and feelings before you can even experience them. It must be a pain in the neck having me react to things you might not have even had the time to consider.” Y/N moved one of her hands down his back and slid it under his shirt. Sam felt a small spark of desire at the feel of her skin on his, and tried to focus on the conversation. Y/N pulled away just enough that she could see his face, but kept rubbing his back with her thumb. “See? I know what this is doing to you, but you’re not reacting to it.” Sam’s eyes widened. She could tell? “It doesn’t seem fair that I can feel what you feel before you even have a chance to decide if you want to feel it or act on it. The last thing I want to do is start pushing you to actively do things you don’t want to do.”

Sam’s mind reeled. He knew that she could feel his emotions since he let his wall down, but hadn’t realized she was so perceptive. Just as he was about to question her further, Y/N’s phone rang.

Both Sam and Y/N stared at her phone as it blared “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones and vibrated its way across the table. Sam looked at Y/N and Y/N shrugged.

“First of all, the only people who would call me right now are in this bunker, and second, that’s _so_ not my ringtone.” Y/N approached the phone cautiously, then picked it up, showing Sam the caller ID. Sam sighed as he saw the incoming number. “666.” Sam took the phone from Y/N and answered the call, putting it on speaker phone.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Sam frowned deeply while Y/N’s eyes widened and her jaw went slack.

“Well, hello, Moose. I wasn’t expecting to hear your abrasive growling on Y/N’s phone. I was hoping she was smarter than to risk her life by taking up with you.” Sam felt the rage building up inside himself, and took a deep breath while Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it.

“What do you want, Crowley,” Sam growled slowly, enunciating each syllable.

“My mother on a spit, but you already know that and have a plan in place for her, right? I mean, I know you haven’t _just_ been twiddling Y/N’s thumbs for the past few weeks, knowing that my mother is out there planning all the different ways she’d like to carve the two of you up for Sunday dinner. Surely, by now you have dozens of ideas on how to take her out, considering the vast amount of resources you have in that clubhouse of yours, and you just forgot to tell me, right?” Sam felt his blood boil at Crowley’s words. They were nowhere with a plan for Rowena, but it galled him to admit it to Crowley. As he struggled to come up with a response that didn’t show Crowley how close to the mark his words had been, Y/N spoke up.

“Well, we’ve been trying to find something we can use on her without getting too close, and so far we haven’t found much. Short of trying to take her out with a sniper rifle when she isn’t looking and can’t block the shot, which we can’t be sure that a bullet could even kill her, there isn’t much we can do from a safe distance, and getting close risks her throwing a curse we can’t deflect. The witch killing spell didn’t work, and we’re sure it wasn’t a case of improperly chilled chicken feet, which is apparently a thing, so we’re back at square one. Anyway, Dean and I are starting to look for ways to bind or strip her powers, but we’re not sure that will do much.” Y/N paused while Sam marveled at her words. Dean and Y/N had been working on this without him? Where had he been? “I had a thought, but I haven’t mentioned it to the boys, yet, so I don’t know how stupid or impossible this idea might be.” Y/N gave Sam a worried glance before she continued. “I was wondering if there’s a way to negate all magic in a space. What I mean by that is, could we take a building, and basically hex it or ward it or something so that nothing magical could do anything inside of it? Then, we could lure her in there, she’d be powerless, and we could take her out like a regular human. Or, if guns and knives won’t kill her, we could at least chop her up into tiny pieces and then scatter the pieces around, you know? Even if she can’t die by bleeding to death or whatever, she’ll cause less trouble if she’s in pieces.” Y/N shrugged while Sam kept looking at her in wonder. So much for the kind-hearted, gentle woman he had fallen in love with. Y/N apparently had a badass streak in her, and Sam thought that was about the sexiest thing ever!

“What do you think, Crowley? I mean, do you think she could be killed like any other human if we could somehow strip her powers?”

“I think she’s evil enough that even without her powers she’d be fairly impervious. Let’s just say that if we could find a way to render her powerless, I’d love to take my time finding ways to make her wish she was dead, even if I can’t kill her. Let me know what you need from me to get it done. Oh, and Moose, let’s just say I’ll be more receptive if you let your little Mooselette do the talking. She’s definitely smarter, and much more pleasant, than either you or your brother. Cheerio, darling.”

Sam resisted the urge to throw the phone against the wall to watch it crash into a thousand pieces. So much for keeping Y/N away from Crowley. Sam carefully put the phone back on the table and sighed as Y/N wrapped her arms around his middle and rubbed his back.

“It’s okay, Sam. I can deal with Crowley. I get it now, you know, why he’s not public enemy number one. He is irritating, though.” Sam chuckled, then got back to the matter at hand.

“You and Dean were strategizing without me?” Sam tried to keep the hurt out of his tone, even though he knew Y/N could sense everything he was feeling. Y/N pulled away from his chest just enough that she could look up at his face and smirked.

“Actually, no. I was just making stuff up as I went along to keep him happy.” Y/N grinned and Sam barked out a laugh.

“Seriously? You just bullshitted the King of Hell?” Y/N shrugged as Sam stared at his girlfriend in amazement.

“Hey, no different than bullshitting anyone else over the phone. I’m not sure I’d get away with it in person, though. Crowley likes me. He likes you guys, too, though he’d never admit it. Crowley liking me means that I can finesse him a bit when I need to. Also, he doesn’t know how much I know about him, so it gives me an advantage. Honestly, he wants me to be his liaison with you, and I’m okay with that.” Sam couldn’t help but look at his girlfriend in awe. The confidence she had almost stifled the spike of fear that shot through him at the thought of her being Crowley’s bestie. Sam worked hard to shake it off, though. If anything proved how well she could stand up to Crowley, that phone call did.

“Anyway, you may have been bullshitting him, but those were some interesting ideas. When did Dean tell you about the chicken feet?” Y/N stifled a giggle and almost snorted with the effort.

“You mean when a spell fell afoul of foul fowl feet?” Sam rolled the phrase in his head for a minute before groaning with a wide grin. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” Y/N was trying to keep a straight face, but was obviously proud of herself.

“That was so bad, Y/N. Seriously.” Sam couldn’t help grinning and gave Y/N a gentle kiss, folding her into his arms and wondering what he ever did to be so lucky. His mind got brought back to the matter at hand when Y/N pulled away from him.

“Dean and I were talking one day when we were in the firing range. I was asking about the witch bomb you guys tried to use on Rowena the last time, and why it didn’t work. He was sure the chicken feet weren’t the problem, so killing her really isn’t possible, I guess. That’s when I started thinking about ways that would stop her, even if they wouldn’t kill her.” Y/N shrugged.

Just then Dean walked in and headed to the fridge to get out something to eat for his own lunch. While Dean ate his lunch, Y/N and Sam told him about Crowley’s phone call. The three of them started brainstorming ideas and strategies, and soon they had a plan in place. Dean called Cas while Y/N called Crowley, leaving Sam to sit and wonder if this plan could actually work.

“Crowley? It’s Y/N. We have an idea, and I think you’ll like it, but we’re going to need your help.”


	33. Chapter 33

_You_

A few days after your bullshitting session with Crowley, you found yourself waiting for him with the boys while they nervously checked weapons and reviewed the plan. Cas was off following a lead about Metatron, so everyone was a little nervous about being a man down. Crowley hadn’t wanted him involved, anyway, but he had planned on being nearby in case he was needed. Now, it was just the three of you. Dean was antsy, muttering curses and threats about Crowley under his breath while Sam would continually pull you close to him and kiss your hair. As time wore on, Sam just held you in his arms while you tried not to let the fear rolling off of him overwhelm you.

“I know this isn’t a bad plan, but I seriously hate the part where you have to be a part of it.” Sam kissed you gently and the fear he was feeling momentarily broke apart to make way for a wash of love. You smiled up at him, hoping to reassure him.

“It’s a good plan, Sam, and you guys have been teaching me how to defend myself, so I should be okay. I mean, if everything goes according to plan, I won’t even have to defend myself. I’ll be fine, Sam. I’m more worried about you. You’re going to be on the front lines of this thing.” You ran a hand through his hair, pulling it away from his face while you looked into his eyes. “I don’t want to lose you when I just found you.”

Sam smiled and gave you a soft kiss. “Not gonna happen. It will take more than a 300-year old witch to take me out.” As he leaned down for another kiss, you felt a disturbance around you that you had started to associate with Crowley.

“Seriously, Moose? This is how you prepare for battle? By molesting poor Y/N?” You and Sam both turned to face the demon, giving him identical bitch faces. Sam stiffened as Crowley moved to your side. “Again, my dear, when you come to your senses and ditch this moron, I’ll treat you like the queen you are. I won’t use you as bait like these two are.”

Both Winchesters opened their mouths to argue at that, but Crowley waved his hand and left them both silent and still. You looked at up at Sam’s panicked face and tried to give him a reassuring smile before moving closer to Crowley. Steeling your nerves, you turned to him and put a hand on his arm, looking him in the eyes steadily and giving him a slight shake of your head.

“It was my idea to be here, and if they had their way, I wouldn’t be here, so don’t blame them, Crowley. If you really care about me like you claim to, then stick to your part of the plan and help us when things get hairy.” You tried not to let it show on your face as you evaluated the energy coming from Crowley. There was the usual greasy feeling that was always there that you attributed to him being a demon, and also a warmth underneath it that had only grown with each encounter you had with him. This time, however, his discomfort with the plan was also coming at you, so you pushed at him a little bit, hoping to make that discomfort disappear. It faded, and you saw just a hint of a smile form on his face before he shrugged and resumed his normal sarcastic façade.

“Fine. I’m here to help, as promised. And thank you for keeping up your end of the deal and not involving the rabid angel. This plan is shaky to begin with, without involving someone of such questionable morals.” Crowley smiled his smarmiest smile while you cocked an eyebrow and tapped a toe. He put a hand on your arm near your elbow and tried for his most comforting tone, though it came out more condescending than comforting. “I know, I know, you have a soft spot for the traitorous backstabber and don’t want to hear a word against him.” Crowley rolled his eyes and waved at the Winchesters, freeing them to move and speak. His eyes flicked around for a quick second, then settled back on the brothers. “She’s on her way, so we’d better move this to the staging area, unless you want her right by the door, here?”

The Winchesters both looked like they’d rather take a stab at Crowley just then, and Sam was actually approaching Crowley to tear you away from him when you heard a laugh coming from several yards away behind a scope of trees.

“All of you together right outside your little clubhouse! Why I didn’t know it was Christmas!” You turned to face the owner of the lilting Scottish brogue with a stab of fear stealing your breath. The tiny redhead walked purposefully towards your group and raised her hands in the air, starting to recite an incantation. As you heard the first words fall from her mouth, the scene suddenly disappeared, and you were in a hot, dingy room that you quickly discerned was a throne room. Crowley, who still had a grip on your arm, led you to the throne, which was sitting on a platform at one end of the room, and gently pushed you to sit down. The shock of the abrupt scene change suddenly wore off and you pulled your arm from Crowley’s hand.

“Crowley! This wasn’t the plan! Where are we? We were supposed to fight Rowena together!” Crowley held up a hand as if to calm you, and you felt an unseen force hold you in place in the chair.

“Now, now, Y/N, no need to worry. The deal was that I would protect you, and there’s nowhere safer for you than right here. Now, I have to be going, so I trust you’ll be kind to the help and allow them to care for you until I return.” He turned around, and you felt the force that held you ease and disappear. Crowley stood for a moment, and addressed what you guessed were various demons in his employ that were standing around. “If a hair on her head is disturbed when I return, you all will be my favorite chew toys until the next Apocalypse. Take care of her.” With a commanding look to each demon in the room, he swiftly walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I totally thought they were going to get Rowena and live happily ever after, and then Crowley had to go and be Crowley.


	34. Chapter 34

_Sam_

His attention was on the witch for just long enough that he missed Crowley and Y/N disappearing. As Rowena began to recite the curse, he moved to protect Y/N, only to find that Y/N and Crowley were gone. Panic stole his breath and distracted his focus just long enough that Rowena was able to finish her curse and he fell to the ground, immobile and with every muscle in his body in painful spasms. Sam looked for Dean, and saw him lying a few feet away, apparently in a similar condition, with the witch bomb he had been holding lying on the ground a few feet away.

“Oh, Winchesters. How lovely to see you again! So this is where your little clubhouse is! I can’t wait to take back everything your Men of Letters stole. So, tell me, Sam, how does it feel to lose your girlfriend, your precious Men of Letters bunker, your brother, and your life, all at once?” Rowena chuckled while Sam groaned and strained against the pain.

Dean growled and groaned while he writhed, reminding Sam of when he had been trying to cure Dean of his black eyes. “Back away from my brother, you bitch,” Dean yelled.

“Now, now, Dean. No need for such language! Didn’t your mother teach you better manners than that, young man? I mean, for all his faults, at least my son was taught how to speak to a lady!” Rowena was facing Dean by now, so didn’t see when Crowley appeared out of thin air next to Sam.

“Yes. Pity there aren’t too many ladies around, anymore, worth talking to. Hello, Mother.” Rowena turned around to face Crowley just in time for Crowley to send her flying with a wave of his hand. Sam felt his body relax and saw Dean take a breath at the same time. “Oh, and this isn’t the door to their little clubhouse. Your little spy was actually my double agent.” Crowley smirked at Rowena’s frustrated cries as Sam grabbed his gun with the witch-killing bullets and Dean grabbed the witch bomb. Crowley had Rowena hanging on the door, legs swinging wildly about a foot off the ground. Dean lit and threw the witch bomb at Rowena, reciting the incantation and hitting her directly in the stomach. Smoke swirled and flashed around her, Sam heard her cry out, but when the smoke cleared, she simply looked a little nauseated.

“Really, boys? That again? I’ve had bad sushi that made me feel worse than that.” Rowena laughed, and Sam saw Crowley twitch his hand, causing Rowena’s head to jerk with the sound of snapping bones. She cried out quickly, then cracked her neck, shook her head, and laughed. “My dear Fergus, I fear that won’t work, either. Break every bone in my body, but I’ll still be here.” Crowley grimaced, then tightened his fingers, causing Rowena to choke, keeping her from speaking. Sam aimed his gun at her head and put a triple tap into her forehead. Rowena’s head bobbed with each shot, then fell forward. Crowley kept her up against the door, but watched her with narrowed eyes. Sure enough, after a long minute, Rowena gasped and lifted her head. Sam watched as each of the three bullets were pushed out of her forehead, falling to the ground below her, and the wounds healed. Rowena tried to laugh, but Crowley tightened his fingers again and all she could do was gasp for air.

Sam turned to Dean, who started digging out supplies from his duffle. Dean handed Sam a marker, and Sam began drawing sigils on Rowena’s arms, hands, and legs. Dean then handed Sam strips of fabric that had been doused in what had been a long recipe of ingredients including holy oil, lamb’s blood, and various herbs. Sam wrapped the cloths around Rowena’s arms and hands, weaving the strips of cloth in and out and around and around, tying them together so Rowena’s arms and hands were completely immobile, then did the same with her legs. Sam still had one long strip of cloth remaining, and after a moment of thought, he covered Rowena’s mouth with it, wrapping it around her head several times, and tying it off, effectively gagging her. Sam stepped back with a smile to admire his work while Dean pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket. Dean began to recite the spell, and as she heard the words, Rowena began to struggle in her bindings. Sam almost smiled as he watched the panic in Rowena’s eyes. When Dean was done with the incantation, the strips of cloth binding Rowena burned white hot, for a moment, causing all three men to shade their eyes. When Sam lowered his arm and looked back at Rowena, the strips of cloth had turned to something that almost looked like rusted steel.

Crowley let her drop to the ground, but stayed on guard in case she moved. Rowena landed with a grunt and fell over onto her side. Sam could hear her muffled sounds, but she couldn’t form words. Rowena struggled to free herself of the steely bonds, but her legs were tied together from her knees to her ankles, and her arms were tied from her elbows to her fingertips. After a couple of minutes of panicked struggling, Rowena slumped down on the ground, giving up.

Crowley smiled and approached Rowena’s form on the ground. “I’ve got a demon causing trouble in Hell simply because he enjoys my torture a little too much. I think I’m going to invite him to use you as a vessel, Mother, and then we’ll both get to have some fun. How does that sound, you evil bitch?” Rowena’s eyes squinted at him, and Sam was suddenly glad she needed her hands and mouth to throw a curse. Crowley stood up and turned to Sam and Dean. “Oh, the hours of enjoyment I’m going to get out of this in the centuries to come.”

Sam pulled the demon knife out of his jacket and advanced toward Crowley with it. “Where’s Y/N? Bring her back. Now.”

Crowley smirked. “Now, Moose. No need to worry. Y/N is perfectly safe. In fact, she’s safer than she’s ever been since she met you. Right now she is my honored guest, getting pampered and generally treated like the queen she is. You wanted her protected, so she’s protected.” Crowley looked hard at the blade in Sam’s hand, then carefully pushed it away from him until Sam dropped his arm. “You know, the story my double agent told Rowena to get her here to this fake bunker door was that I’d fallen in love with Y/N and was planning to steal her away from you the next time you let her out of your clubhouse. It wasn’t all lies, actually. I do have a soft spot for her, and I do plan to keep her away from you lot. People around you two tend to die early and bloody, and I don’t plan on watching the same fate fall on Y/N. She deserves better than that.”

Sam’s eyes widened in surprise, and he advanced on Crowley again with the knife. Crowley waved his hand and Sam went flying towards the fake bunker door. Dean growled and pulled out an angel blade only to suffer the same fate as Sam. As they both lay on the ground groaning, Crowley approached them, pushing them both up against the door with a wave of his hand. Sam struggled in vain against the invisible force holding him against the door.

“Really, Sam. I promise you that she’ll be safer than she’s ever been. Unless, of course, you decide to do something stupid and try to get her back. Let her go, Sam, and she can be the first of your girlfriends to live a long and happy life, with every comfort and convenience she could want. I know there will be a painful transition time, but after a while, she’ll forget about your stuffy bunker and greasy diner meals, and she’ll be happy. Let her be happy.”

Sam felt the invisible force holding him back disappear as Crowley and Rowena disappeared. Sam and Dean both fell forward, and Sam worked hard to regain his breath. Sam pulled air into his lungs, but still felt like he wasn’t getting any oxygen. Sam’s heart began to race as he pictured Y/N in an opulent hotel suite with every luxury he could never give her. Satin sheets, daily massages, chocolates on her pillow, and champagne for breakfast. Tears began to fall down his cheeks as he continued to gasp for air while the blood pounded in his ears. His chest felt heavy, and he pulled at his shirts to try and stop the feeling that he was choking.

Dean quickly took over Sam’s rapidly contracting field of vision as he held Sam’s shoulders and looked into his eyes. “Sam? You have to calm down! We’ll get her back, Sammy, I promise! Just slow your breathing, Sam. Slow down, little brother!” Dean started guiding Sam into slower breaths, and soon Sam felt the heaviness in his chest fade and his airways opened up. Tears were still falling down his cheeks, though, even as he calmed down, staring at his big brother’s face. Dean said they would fix it, so that means they’ll fix it. They’ll get her back.

“We have to get her back, Dean. We have to. We can’t leave her with Crowley, Dean.” Sam’s voice broke and Dean pulled Sam into a hug.

“We’ll get her back, man. No worries. We’ll get her back.”


	35. Chapter 35

_You_

Afraid to move, you sat on Crowley’s throne and waited for something to happen. Your eyes darted from demon to demon in the room, wondering exactly how much danger you were in given Crowley’s decree that you weren’t to be touched. You squirmed in the throne, in spite of its comfort, wondering what was happening at the fake bunker site with Sam and Rowena. Would Crowley keep up his end of the deal and keep Sam and Dean safe? After a few minutes, a man dressed in formal attire walked in the room and approached you.

“We have been instructed to cater to any needs you may have while the King is running his errand. Do you require anything at the present time? Food? Drink? Facilities?” You shook your head dumbly, too scared to do anything else. The man nodded before continuing. “In that case, is there anything you would desire to help you pass the time until the King returns? Reading material? The King has set up a screening room in preparation of your visit in case there are any movies or television shows you’d like to watch?” You shook your head again, and tried to work up the courage to speak.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to find your voice. “The King prepared for my… visit, you say?” The man nodded seriously. “How long does the King expect me to… enjoy his hospitality?” You took a deep breath and tried to keep calm.

“No time was specified, but preparations have been made for an extended stay.” Your eyes widened as you wondered exactly what constituted an extended stay to a demon. “If there’s nothing else at the moment, then I will leave you to wait for the King’s return. Should you need something, my name is Godfrey. Ask for me, and I’ll return.” You nodded, and Godfrey left the room.

You sat on the throne for what felt like an eternity, waiting for Crowley to return. Eventually, you got bored, and pulled out your phone. You were surprised to find you had a signal. Unsure if calling Sam would distract him from the battle with Rowena, you opted for sending a text.

“ _Not sure, but I think I’m sitting on Crowley’s throne. Just wanted to tell you that I’m fine and they’re treating me well here. I don’t know what Crowley has in mind for me, but it doesn’t seem to include discomfort of any kind. I miss you, I love you, and I know we’ll figure this out and see each other soon.”_ You hit send, and hoped the message reached Sam.

After about a half an hour of killing time playing games on your phone to distract yourself, Crowley returned. He approached you, and smiled what felt like a genuine smile, putting a hand on the back of the throne and looking over your shoulder at what you were doing.

“Were you able to reach Moose and Squirrel and let them know you’re okay?” You looked up at Crowley standing over you in confusion.

“Uh, well, I sent a message, but haven’t gotten a response. I wasn’t sure if anything I sent from here would even go, if you know what I mean.” Crowley gently took your phone from your hands and slid it into his pocket.

“As long as you’re sitting here, the phone works fine. Perks of being the King.” Crowley winked at you and smiled, leaving you speechless. “Come now, darling, let me show you to your suite.” Crowley offered you his arm, and in your state of shock, you took it like your grandmother had taught you when you were little. He then led you out of the room and you started walking down the hall. As you moved further away from the throne room, your fear returned, along with your voice.

“What are you doing, Crowley? Where are we? Why am I here, and not back with the Winchesters? Godfrey said you had prepared for an extended stay. How long do you plan on keeping me here?”

“One question at a time, pet. First, I’m keeping you safe. Our deal was that I’d help with the fight against my mother, keep you safe, and in return, I get to keep whatever remains of my mother. This is me, holding up my end of the bargain. This is Hell. Well, the upscale part of Hell with all the modern amenities you could desire. Again, perks of being the King. The Winchesters are alive and well, my mother is enjoying a nice rest in her bindings in a specially-outfitted cell in the deepest, darkest corner of the most uncomfortable part of Hell where I keep my favorite toys, and you are safe. I can’t keep you safe if you’re with the Winchesters, so I brought you here. Here, you are safe, and I can provide you with every comfort you could ever need. Anything you need, anything you want, I will provide it for you.”

“I want Sam.”

“Okay, anything but that. If I bring him here, he’ll just try to break you out, and in doing so, will jeopardize your safety.” Crowley’s right hand was covering your hand on his arm, and he was patting you in a manner that was meant to be comforting. “Relax, Y/N. You are in no danger here.” Crowley paused his walking and turned to you, taking both of your hands in his. “And there’s no point in trying to pray to that traitor in a trench coat. If prayers could leave Hell, angels would go mad with the cacophony. Besides, even he doesn’t have the power to get here.” Crowley saw the distress evident on your face and you could tell he wanted to soothe you. He dropped one of your hands and brushed a lock of hair from your face, smiling comfortingly at you. His hand stayed by your head, cupping your face gently. “There is no need for you to worry, my dear. Your every need or want will be provided, with the exception of the Winchesters.”

Part of you was in complete panic mode. Your heart was beating a thousand beats per minute and slamming against your ribcage. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you forced yourself to take a deep breath and calm down. The scared part of you wanted to rail at Crowley, cry and scream and beg to be let go, but the calm part of you knew that wouldn’t get you anywhere. You added your empty hand to the hand holding Crowley’s and clasped his hand in both of yours. Looking into Crowley’s eyes, leaning your head into his hand just a little, you pushed as you spoke.

“Crowley, please. As much as I appreciate your concern, I love Sam, and I need to be with him. If you have concerns about my safety with the Winchesters, then we can discuss those concerns and how to alleviate them, but I can’t stay here. Please, Crowley, take me back to Sam. Please.”

For a moment, you thought it was working. Crowley’s expression changed ever so slightly, and there was a subtle shift in his stance.

“Darling, you can stop trying to persuade me that way. It won’t work. I know what you are and what you can do.” You couldn’t stop the shock from becoming evident on your face. “I figured it out after you made me save them from your apartment the day we met. You thought you could sway me from my plan and I wouldn’t notice that I suddenly changed my mind for no reason? No one makes me do anything just because they asked nicely. I did my research. Hell has records, too, you know. I know about your grandmother. It’s also why I’ve been careful to never lie to you. You would know before the lie left my lips, wouldn’t you?” Crowley caressed your cheek with his thumb as his eyes roamed your face affectionately. “My guess is that you’ve been reading me and working me since you found out what you could do.” A stab of fear made your breath catch. If he thinks that, what will he do about it? “Don’t worry, pet, I also believe that you had no malicious intent, so all is forgiven. If it wasn’t, I’d have left you to die with the Winchesters.” Crowley dropped his hand from your face, pulled your hand to his elbow, and continued leading you down the hall. “No, instead you’ll be kept safe here and provided every comfort. I want you to be happy, as well as safe, so any requests you have, except for the Winchesters, will be considered and discussed.”

The two of you approached a door, and Crowley led you through it to a huge suite of rooms. There was a living room/screening room, complete with comfortable couches and a huge flat screen TV.  Next, you saw a small kitchen, filled with fancy gadgets and expensive appliances that would make Dean jealous. Crowley started to lead you around the suite, but you soon broke away from him to check out everything. The bathroom was about the size of the kitchen with a whirlpool tub, two-person sauna (you chuckled at the irony of a sauna in Hell), and a huge shower with a bench and a complicated-looking showerhead system. There were French doors that opened up from the living room to the bedroom, where a California king-sized bed took over the room, covered in what looked like a million pillows and blankets. Books of all kinds were lining bookshelves around the room, and there was a walk-in closet that would make any diva jealous. You inspected the clothes, and discovered that everything was in your size, and the collection ranged from simple jeans and t-shirts to ball gowns. There was also a large jewelry box, but it was mostly empty. The few items you saw, though, were simple, and to your taste. Crowley as smiling as you looked everything over, but stayed quiet until you sat down on the end of the bed, looking around in awe.

“Crowley, this is too much. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, I really do, but…”

“But nothing, darling. I know that staying here, even if it is for your own safety, will be difficult for you. All of this is meant to ease that hardship. I’m the King of Hell, pet. If there’s nothing else I can do, I can at least provide you comfort and style. Now, I have to go attend to matters of state. Feel free to settle in, and if you need anything, just ask one of the guards outside the door to get Godfrey for you.” Crowley bent over and kissed your cheek, then gently brushed a lock of hair from your face. “I do hope you can find a way to be happy here.” With that, Crowley was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think she should have yelled and screamed and fought, I agreed, but this Reader figured out a while ago that yelling and screaming would never work with Crowley. Part of Crowley wants to be liked, or at least treated with respect as an equal. She figures she'll catch more flies with honey than vinegar, as it were.


	36. Chapter 36

_Sam_

As Dean was driving them back to the bunker, Sam’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Pulling it out, he found a text from Y/N. As he read the text to Dean, his worry for her welfare calmed a little bit. Sam tried to call her, but the call went directly to voicemail. He huffed in frustration, then told Dean about the text.

Dean hit the steering wheel angrily, then rubbed it with his hand as if to apologize to his Baby for the violence. “Dammit. So, what, is he in love with her or something? Why the hell is he doing this? What’s in it for him?” Dean and Sam both jumped when Crowley’s voice came out of the back seat of the car.

“Well, she stays safe, and I get a Moose and Squirrel heeding my every beck and call. So now all of the resources that are at your disposal are also at my disposal, including the library in that bunker of yours. If my mother wanted it, even though she once had Hell’s library at her fingertips, then there must be something there worth wanting. Really, Squirrel, I would have thought you could have figured all this out by now.”

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned with Sam to face Crowley in the back seat. “Like hell, Crowley! We’re not giving you anything until you give her back! How do we even know she’s alive? All we have is a text message that you could have sent!” Sam felt his heart thundering in his ears again at the thought that Y/N really could be dead or hurt.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and a piece of paper appeared in his hand. He held it out toward Sam and indicated he should take it. “Here, Moose. Proof of life, and health. I expect the next time I call you, you’ll be more amenable to my requests.” Sam took the piece of paper and Crowley disappeared.

On the piece of paper was a complicated web address and a password. Sam pulled out his laptop while Dean put the car in drive and got back on the road. When he brought up the web site and put in the password, Sam gasped.

The screen was split four ways, and each quadrant was a security camera feed of a suite of rooms. Sitting on the edge of the bed in one of the feeds was Y/N. Sam’s heart ached. She was just sitting there, looking around like she was lost and didn’t know what to do. As Dean was pulling the car into the bunker’s garage and turned to see what Sam was looking at, a message scrolled across the bottom of the screen.

“Behave, and you’ll get sound.” Sam felt his throat close for a moment while Dean slammed his hand on the steering wheel again.

“Son of a BITCH!” Dean got out of the car, slamming the door. Sam slowly closed the laptop, knowing he had to get out the car, and couldn’t carry it open like that, but not wanting to possibly sever the only remaining connection he had to Y/N. He almost held his breath while he walked to the library until he opened up his laptop again, and the security feed was still there. He watched as Y/N started pacing around the room, wringing her hands, and felt tears prick his eyes when he realized she was crying. He watched her until she lay down on the bed, obviously cried out, and fell asleep.

Over the next week, Crowley gave Sam and Dean a few little assignments, each of which they grudgingly completed after Crowley threatened to cut off the security feeds, or remove whatever thing Y/N had found to do most recently to stave off boredom. Sam had watched Y/N refuse food for the first day and a half, until Crowley pointed to the cameras. After a short discussion, Crowley left, and Y/N spent some time just staring at them. Sam watched as she suddenly got up, pulled out paper and a pen from the desk, and started writing. When she was done, she walked over to one of the cameras and put the piece of paper in front of it so he could read it.

“Sam, I love you. I’m okay. This part of Hell isn’t so bad. I miss you, and wish I could see you like you can see me. Don’t worry about me. Stay safe. I love you.”

Sam took a screenshot of the feed while Y/N was holding up the letter and saved it for later. After Y/N threw away the paper in the bathroom, she returned to the camera, and blew a kiss into it. With a teary smile, Sam pretended to catch it and hold it to his heart, even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

When he wasn’t staring at the screen, watching Y/N’s every movement, or running one of Crowley’s little errands, he was trying to formulate an ironclad plan to get her back. It wasn’t the first time Sam had broken into Hell, but instead of unexpectedly rescuing one innocent soul among billions, this time he’d be rescuing what would be considered a high-value asset to the King, and they would be expecting him. Y/N was most likely very heavily guarded, and was probably very close to wherever Crowley spent most of his time. Sam had watched Crowley take many meals with Y/N, even though he didn’t eat. He tried not to be jealous when he saw Y/N relax around him, even laughing at something he’d said a few times. Y/N was kind-hearted, always looked for the bright side of any situation, and could find something to love about anyone. The fact that she loved him proved that.

Sam shook his head to clear it. He needed a plan to get into Hell, find Y/N, fight through the highest security Hell would have to offer, and get out again. All without Crowley finding out. That meant no interrogating demons for the info. Sam sighed.

After a week, and after Sam and Dean had found and handed over a cursed item to Crowley, the security feed suddenly had sound. Sam had been lying in bed, the laptop open on his night stand next to him, trying not to sleep because he was watching Y/N fold laundry. Why she had to fold her own laundry was anyone’s guess, and Sam figured she had begged Crowley to let her do some of her own chores simply to alleviate boredom. As Sam’s eyes were drooping, he heard Y/N’s voice out of the blue.

“If you’d told me ten years ago I’d be begging to do laundry, I’d have called you bad names and had you sent to the loony bin.” Sam’s eyes flew open, and his tired mind tried to figure out if he was dreaming or not. As she kept on talking, letting fly a running monologue on laundry, the clothes Crowley had provided for her, the laundry facilities in the bathroom, and really anything that came to her mind, Sam realized it was really her he was hearing. Sam almost kissed the screen. As he watched and listened, he heard a knock on her door, and heard her yell for whoever it was to come in. A moment later, Crowley showed up in the living room and greeted Y/N.

“Hello, my dear. I’m hoping you’re doing well. I just came to let you know that I’ve wired the feeds for sound, so your beloved Moose can hear you now. No more love letters to the cameras needed.” Sam watched Y/N’s face register the surprise, and then she shrugged. “Besides, you were going to clog the plumbing with all that paper.” Sam chuckled. So much for hiding the evidence of what she’d been doing. Y/N’s eyes kept traveling to the nearest camera while she and Crowley had a pleasant chat about things she needed or wanted. As soon as Crowley was out the door, Y/N rushed over to the nearest camera.

“Sam?” Y/N sighed. “Yeah, I know, you have no way to respond. I don’t know why I keep listening and looking. Anyway, I hope you’re not just spending all day and all night watching me. That’s got to be the most boring TV show ever. And I apologize in advance for the stupid things I say when I’m talking to myself. Godfrey isn’t a talker, Crowley isn’t here much, and the guards just grunt and nod, so intelligent conversation is at a premium around here.” Y/N sighed again and looked around. “I don’t know what to say. I’m here. I’m fine. I love you. And don’t waste too much time watching me, okay? I’m trying to keep busy, I’m reading, I’m watching movies, but I’m more bored than anything, so watching me be bored has got to be doubly boring for you. I love you too much to think of you glued to your laptop 24/7 watching me be bored.” Y/N paused and looked around. “Well, I guess it’s back to laundry for me.” Y/N blew a kiss at the camera and smiled. As she turned away, Sam saw her wipe something from her face and sighed. 


	37. Chapter 37

_You_

Another week had passed and you were still in Hell. Even if you hadn’t been told your new prison was in Hell, you would have still thought it was Hell, because you certainly felt like you were getting slowly tortured. There were no real windows in your rooms, just things that looked like windows, but were actually just an illusion. You could change the view to a city view if yesterday’s beach scene suddenly bored you, but knowing it wasn’t real made you prefer to not look at all. Like those TVs that look like fireplaces. They look and sound like a fire, but give off no heat. There was plenty to keep you occupied, including every movie, TV show, or book ever made (and a few that would never be found above ground), and anything you wanted was provided immediately, except Sam. Crowley visited every day, which was the only thing keeping you sane from loneliness. Human interaction was what you were beginning to crave, even more than real sunshine, and you suspected that was part of Crowley’s plan. If you were cut off from the rest of the world, you’d depend on him for your happiness, and soon have a heavy case of Stockholm syndrome. It was taking everything you had not to prove him right.

The first day and night you were here, you cried, and you fought, and you decided that you would make yourself so miserable you’d get sick, or hurt yourself, and prove to Crowley that keeping you here wouldn’t mean keeping you safe. You stopped eating in defiance, and had been carefully searching the rooms for different ways to injure yourself badly, but not fatally. When Crowley pointed out the cameras, all of those plans changed.

“Moose is watching, my dear. As long as he knows you are safe, he will behave. I suspect, though, that if he believes that you are endangering yourself in despair, he’ll try to ride to the rescue. Now, I know you’ve seen the guards outside your door, and at literally every other entrance and exit to this part of Hell. What are the odds that a rescue attempt wouldn’t result in his death?” Your heart fell. If Sam saw you get sick or injured, he would rush in halfcocked to save you, and probably get hurt, if not killed. If he was going to rescue you, he’d need time to formulate and execute a plan. You had to keep Sam calm as best you could for both your sakes. Even though there was a good chance that Crowley was lying about Sam being able to watch, you couldn’t take that chance. When Crowley left, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to reach out to Sam, even though there was no guarantee he was watching at that exact moment. All you could do was hope.

Now that you’d been here for a couple of weeks, you were starting to get into a bit of a routine. Focusing on that was helping to distract you from the abject boredom. You also figured that if your routine became predictable, then Sam wouldn’t feel the need to watch you 24/7. If you only wrote your notes to him at certain times, and later talked to him after Crowley turned on the sound, then maybe he would take the rest of his days to do something else. The last thing you wanted to do was be the very distraction that kept him from formulating a plan for your escape. This thinking also kept you from feeling like you had to put on a show 24/7, too. If you could convince yourself Sam wasn’t watching, then you could stop trying to look interesting enough to watch.

Keeping in mind that if you weren’t there to watch, maybe Sam wouldn’t be watching, you started asking Crowley to take walks with you outside your suite every day. Crowley obviously thought this was part of his plan at work to in some way seduce you into being happy with him, and was pleased with the request. He smiled when you wrote a note to Sam and placed it in front of one of the cameras, letting him know that you were okay, just taking a walk outside, in case Sam wasn’t watching when you left. You had an ulterior motive for these walks, which was to familiarize yourself with the layout of the areas around your rooms, and where the guards were posted. Should Sam ever get to you, you wanted to be able to lead him out if you had to. Every night, before you went to bed, you made sure to tell Sam all about your day, including your walks. You tried to couch everything you said in innocence and awe, and keep the info you were passing subtle and to a minimum, because you knew Crowley was watching the feeds. Surely, Crowley would figure out that you were essentially slipping notes to Sam in class during those talks, and he’d be just as interested in them as Sam was. In your mind, though, just letting Sam know that you were finding your way around outside your suite was good enough. Anything else was gravy.

Nights were still the worst, though. You could only hope that Sam couldn’t tell that you were having nightmares. You had always talked in your sleep during nightmares or when you had those dreams born from stressful times, and you hoped that if it was happening now, that Sam was sleeping through it. That was another thing you were missing: Sam’s warm body pressed up against yours in bed. You had barely begun to get used to snuggling up against his solid warmth when it was taken from you. You tried not to think too much about Sam in bed watching you sleep, and how some long distance couples used video chats to, well, stay intimate. What you had going on was not a video chat with one person, it was a one-way feed to at least two viewers, if not more. Surely Crowley wasn’t watching you every single second, but you guessed he probably had at least one other demon assigned to watch the feeds all the time so you didn’t do or say something to cause a problem. Imagining some lackey demon watching you putting on any kind of show for Sam quickly snuffed that thought. So, you went to sleep every night, trying to think good thoughts so you wouldn’t have nightmares, and hoping the stress of trying to appear perfectly all right for Sam wasn’t leaching into your dreams and causing you to spill the beans every time you shut your eyes.


	38. Chapter 38

_Sam_

After two weeks of watching Y/N through the feeds and listening to her nightly reports on her days, Sam was beyond frustrated. Every book the Men of Letters had on Hell indicated that Hell was remodeled fairly often, so any map ever made would most likely be obsolete. Sam’s own forays into Hell had not included anything like what Y/N talked about in her reports. Sam knew she was trying to get information to him without Crowley figuring out what she was saying, and he admired her for trying. She would talk about architecture of the area she was in, or decorations she thought were pretty, or even pretty horrifying. Apparently most of the artwork on the walls fell squarely under the “pretty horrifying” label. The bottom line was, though, that Y/N had actually managed to give him a fairly good picture of what her wing of Hell looked like. If he ever found himself there, he’d know he was at least close. How to find her part, though, was the problem.

Cas had been busy talking to reapers, trying to find a reaper willing to transport them to Hell and guide them to Y/N. Although there were several reapers willing to take them to Purgatory, as Ajay had once done, few were open to the idea of entering Hell proper, and none knew their way around well enough to find Y/N. The prospect of being in Purgatory gave all three men mixed feelings. Cas saw it as a necessary evil to be tolerated, but Dean saw it as a chance to see possibly see Benny again and convince him to come back topside. Sam saw the good and the bad of going through Purgatory. The good was that they knew their way around. The bad was the idea of Y/N having to fight her way through a wasteland of monsters when she wasn’t yet properly trained.

In an effort to find a different way, Dean had summoned a crossroads demon and tried to get the information they needed through traditional methods, even though it would alert Crowley to what they were doing. The demon was unhelpful (unless you count giving Dean something to take out his frustrations on), and Crowley had threatened to cut off the feeds when he found out one of his demons was dead. Sam was spending his time in the library, searching for tracking spells or transportation spells that could take him directly to Y/N. So far, he hadn’t found anything that didn’t either have worrisome side effects, or couldn’t do exactly what he needed. Everything he had found might work if Y/N were above ground, but not when she was in Hell. Transportation between realms was tricky, and best left to the reapers.

Sam was starting to strategize with Dean about ways to get Crowley to give up Y/N voluntarily. So far, they had bubkes, as Dean had put it. Sam sighed and laid his head down on his arms on the library table, surrounded by open books and notepads full of his scribbles. His despair was interrupted when he heard his phone chirp and buzz across the table. It was a text message from an unknown number.

_I can help you get Y/N back. Meet me where you lost her at 3AM. Don’t be late._

Sam stared at his phone in silence, his mind running a million miles a minute. Finally, he got Dean’s attention and showed him the text.

“Sam, you know that could be a trap. That could be Crowley trying to take us out!”

“I know it could be a trap, but I doubt it would be Crowley. Crowley has us exactly where he wants us right now. What leverage could he get from us bigger than Y/N? If it’s a trap, it’s someone else, but who else knows that Crowley has Y/N, _and_ where we were when we lost her? No matter what, it’s worth checking out, at least. I mean, we have to go. If there’s even a chance, Dean, then we have to.” Sam knew he was giving Dean his best puppy eyes, and could only hope Dean would agree.

“All right, but we go prepared for anything, and see if Cas can get here in time to go with us. What’s with the middle of the night meeting time? That’s freaky, right?” Dean pulled out his phone to call Cas.

“Yeah, it is,” Sam agreed. Sam looked at his watch and began counting the hours until 3AM.

When 3AM finally came, Dean, Cas, and Sam were all in the Impala, waiting for their mysterious contact in front of the fake bunker location. All three jumped in their seats when he appeared from nowhere in Baby’s headlights. Sam was the only one who recognized him, though. He shot out of the car and ran at the newcomer, demon knife in hand, almost tackling him to the ground. Sam was stopped within a foot of his destination, frozen to the spot, struggling to free himself of his invisible binds.

“Is that any way to treat someone who is risking their own life to help you, Mr. Winchester?”

“Help me? You’re the one keeping Y/N prisoner, _Godfrey!_ ” Sam continued struggling, focused solely on trying to get at the demon he had watched serve Y/N for the past two weeks. Dean and Cas got out of the car and approached the two warily.

“Godfrey? That’s the demonic butler Crowley has taking care of Y/N, right?” Dean looked to Sam for confirmation, and Sam nodded. “Why would you want to help us? You work for Crowley! If he finds out you’re here, you’re toast.”

Godfrey sighed and turned to Dean. “Yes, I work for Crowley, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.” Sam stopped struggling, and Godfrey let him go. Sam almost fell down from the sudden lack of resistance, but caught himself just in time.

“Give us one good reason why we should believe you,” Cas demanded in his typical stern manner, “or I might just smite you right here.” Cas took a step towards Godfrey, who took a step back and put his hands up in surrender.

“I come in peace. I swear. Crowley has messed with me for the last time, so it’s time I messed with him a little, that’s all. See, until a month ago, I was a crossroads demon. Not just any crossroads demon, though; I was set to break his record for soul deals for the year. I love my job, and I’m good at it. Better than Crowley ever was, and it’s killing him. When he realized that I was getting close to taking over the title ‘King of the Crossroads,’ he started messing with me. He’s been giving me extra assignments that take me away from my work, saying that it’s training for advancement. So, I did what he asked. My last assignment was to infiltrate Rowena’s network and get her here so you guys could finish her off. When I was successful, I thought I was golden. It would be all loose women and baby’s blood forever.” Godfrey snorted derisively while Sam considered the words spoken with the clipped snooty accent. “Ha. My so-called promotion was to become manservant to a human! And not even an interesting human, a sniveling sad sack human that doesn’t even fight!”

Sam jumped at that, and Godfrey held him at bay again, this time with a gag over his mouth. Sam tried to speak, but only muffled noise came out of his mouth.

“I know, don’t talk about her that way, blah blah blah. The perks of being a guard in Hell include being able to knock around the prisoners when they misbehave, but Crowley’s orders are not to harm her. Where’s the fun in that? This isn’t a promotion, this is a punishment, for daring to be better than Crowley. Well, anything would be better than catering to a simpering human, so here I am. I’ll help you get her back, with the promise that Crowley never knows I was involved. With her gone, even if he finds some other meaningless job for me to do, at least I won’t be shopping for the perfect cantaloupe because her humanness needs to eat fruit every day.” Godfrey rolled his eyes and huffed, letting Sam go at the same time.

Sam looked at Dean and Cas, who both shrugged and looked back at him. “All right. Say we believe you. How can you help us get Y/N back? You can’t fight with us, or Crowley will know you’re the leak and take you out.”

“I can give you a map of where Crowley has her, along with where the guards are and where you can break in from topside. See, he’s keeping her close to his throne room, which is in the part of Hell closest to above ground. In fact, part of his throne room actually is above ground. He likes the natural light that comes in through the window, or some such shit like that.” Dean barely stifled a giggle at the demon’s curse through his stiff, upper crust accent. “Even as warded as they are, those windows are a weak point. Not to mention that the wards are intended more to keep things in than to keep things out. Agree to keep my involvement out of it, and not kill me when you storm the place, and I’ll tell you what the view from those windows is. Find the windows, break in, get the girl, and get out. Even better, I’ll tell you when the best time to do it is.” Godfrey looked from Sam to Dean to Cas, waiting for a response. “Come on, you fools! I’m offering to spoon feed you a rescue plan, and all you can give me is dumb looks?”

Cas was the first to speak. “How do we know we can trust you?”

Godfrey sighed. “You can’t. I’m a demon. But I’m the best offer you’re going to get.”

As the demon all but tapped his toe impatiently, Sam, Dean, and Cas considered his offer. Without any discussion beyond the wordless the conversation the two men and the angel had perfected over years of working together, they turned to Godfrey and nodded.

“We’re in,” said Sam.

“Good, now let’s get down to business.”


	39. Chapter 39

_You_

One afternoon, while you were trying to focus on a book Crowley had specifically suggested you read about the hierarchy of demons and the powers associated with each type of demon, Godfrey came by to do his usual daily cleaning service. As he was cleaning and gathering trash in the bathroom, he called to you and asked you to follow him into the bathroom so you could help him make up another shopping list.

“Miss Y/N, can you come here a moment and go over your supply levels and let me know what you might be running low on?” You looked at him questioningly, but got up and approached him, anyway. As you neared the bathroom, he seemed to speak in a stage whisper. “I, um, understand that as a human female, you might have need of certain supplies, if you know what I mean.” Godfrey turned a delightful shade of pink as you entered the bathroom and prepared to explain to him what you would need. No sooner were you out of sight of the cameras, though, Godfrey pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and pressed it into your palm, before raising his voice again. “I understand that a woman’s needs can be rather specific, so if you could write down exactly what you will require, then I can be sure to get the right thing.”

You tried to keep the fake conversation going while opening the letter. “Oh, of course, Godfrey. Thank you so much for your understanding. Not many men would be so considerate.” You paused as you quickly read the note inside the paper.

_I’ve been watching and hearing everything and we’ve got a plan to get you out. We’re not sure exactly when, but stick to your routine and you’ll be okay. If you understand, switch your window view to the beach scene. I love you. - Sam_

Godfrey took the note from you and stuck it in his mouth, causing you to stifle a giggle. He then handed you a blank piece of paper and quietly whispered, “Feminine…you know?” You brought your brain back to the subterfuge at hand and quickly wrote down what you’d need, being sure to explain to him what the package looked like, even though you were both flushed pink and rolling your eyes. As he was about to leave, you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, which caused him to grimace as he walked out the bathroom door. You took a second to compose yourself, then went back to your reading.

 _Sam’s coming!_ You tried to read, but kept moving your eyes over the same page over and over. After a few minutes, you put the book aside, got up, and went over to the window. With the push of a button, you switched the view from the city to the mountains to the beach scene again. You pretended to watch the waves for a few minutes, and then lay down to try and take a nap. If they were coming, you’d need to be well-rested and ready.

Much to your chagrin, you had to wait two days before you heard the ruckus in the hallway signaling that your escape was near. You were just finishing your breakfast when you heard raised voices in the hallway outside your door. You had spent the past two days considering what you could take with you as a weapon, and had come up empty, except for kitchen knives. It was no surprise that nothing Crowley allowed you to have in your suite could really hurt a demon. You grabbed one of the kitchen knives, anyway, hoping that stabbing a demon would at least slow it down. Once you had the knife in your hand, you opened the door to your suite to see what was happening outside.

The next few minutes were all a blur. In the hallway, Sam was fighting with two demons who normally guarded the throne room, while the guards for your door simply stood and watched. You looked nervously at the two guards, then decided to try to help Sam. As you headed towards the fray, before you could try to strike, one of the guards came around from behind you and stabbed one of the demons attacking Sam with an angel blade. You stopped in shock while Sam took out the other demon, staring up at your defender.

The burly demon looked down at you for a split second before speaking quietly. “You didn’t see that, I didn’t do that, now get out of here.” He and his partner both ran the other way down the hallway and disappeared. You turned around to look at Sam, and saw the relief in his eyes at seeing that you were all right.

“The deal was, you get out alive and we don’t tell Crowley who helped. Now, let’s go!” Sam grabbed your hand and you started running down the hall.

As you neared the throne room, a demon flew through the doorway and hit the wall, sliding down to the ground with a thud and a groan. Sam ran to it and thrust the demon knife into its chest, watching the orange flicker as the demon died. You both turned around and looked into the throne room to see Dean and Cas fighting more demons than they could possibly beat. When they saw you and Sam, both smiled for a split second before the men had another of their quick and silent conversations. Dean looked at the windows in the throne room, which you now saw were broken, and the horde of demons between the four of you and the windows. Some of the demons were fighting your boys, but the vast majority were actually trying to climb out the windows. No matter which mission the demons had in mind, they were going to keep you away from them. Some of the demons fighting to get out were killing each other to jockey for position, and there was already a pile of mangled demons on the floor below the windows. Other demons were simply using the beaten bodies as stepping stones for better access to the windows. You looked at the boys, and watched Cas smite two more demons at once while Dean pushed his angel blade into a third. As Dean pulled his blade from the body, he turned to you and Sam.

“Plan B.” Sam gave a quick sigh, but nodded. Dean and Cas went from trying to get into the throne room to running down the hall. This made you nervous, simply because you had never been down this hall past the throne room, and Crowley had told you what lay ahead.

Down that hallway was the entrance to Hell proper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wondered if Godfrey and the guards would want to overthrow Crowley, but they seemed pretty happy with Crowley in general, just unhappy with their current assignments.


	40. Chapter 40

_Sam_

As soon as Dean mentioned Plan B, Sam’s heart sank. Giving Y/N the cook’s tour of Hell was something he had really hoped they could avoid. Godfrey’s map had only gone so far, and after that, they would be going on where Godfrey had heard things were, but he’d never been there. Matching up what Dean, Sam, and Cas knew of Hell with what Godfrey knew had been impossible. All Sam knew was there was a portal to Purgatory, and in Purgatory, there was a portal to Maine. The only good part of Plan B was that the demons most likely to give them resistance were all too busy trying to escape Hell through the windows they’d smashed in the throne room. They’d be lost, but at least they wouldn’t be lost and fighting.

Sam and Dean led the way, with Cas trailing behind Y/N, since Sam had been the most recent visitor to Hell, and knew what the portal to Purgatory looked like. As they walked down hallways, the air smelled steadily worse, the lighting grew dimmer and more eerie, and Sam felt the temperature rise. Dean fell behind Sam for a moment, and Sam heard Dean give Y/N a machete in place of the kitchen knife she had grabbed.

“It won’t kill a demon, but they move a lot slower without their heads,” Dean joked. Sam huffed while he searched for the next turn. He listened while Dean talked Y/N through beheading a demon. From what he could gather, Y/N had been doing well with the machete, which is why Dean had brought it with him for her. Short of a gun, which Sam also heard Dean hand over, a machete was what Y/N had come closest to mastering. Knowing that Y/N was now fully armed to protect herself, Sam took a calming breath and focused on the task at hand.

A few turns later, and they were beyond Godfrey’s map, into what he’d heard about, but never seen. The only thing Godfrey had mentioned that was giving Sam hope was that the section of Hell Sam had been in before would feel different. Godfrey hadn’t been able to describe what he’d heard exactly, but he’d said that innocent souls felt and smelled different than damned souls. They were brighter, there was less of a brimstone smell about them, and they were cooler, so the section of Hell that housed them tended to also be brighter, cooler, and smell better. At each junction, Sam would stop and sniff. After doing this a few times, he started to feel like a bloodhound, but he thought he was truly feeling a difference. Dean was grumbling that everything looked and smelled the same to him, but Cas was smiling. Dean fell behind Y/N and Cas moved up with Sam.

“I don’t smell the difference, or feel a difference in the air, but I feel a difference in the emotions, Sam,” Y/N said. Cas tilted his head and peered at her while Sam stopped sniffing to look at her. “The damned souls are all saying that they don’t deserve to be here, but underneath, they don’t believe it. They’re lying. Each time you make a correct turn, I feel fewer lies. We’re on the right path, Sam, I can feel it.” Y/N gave him a small smile, and Sam suddenly realized what she must be feeling with all of these tortured souls around her. She would be feeling all of their pain.

“Can you feel everything these souls are feeling, Y/N?” Sam thought his heart might break at the answer.

“It’s like swimming in the ocean. It’s everywhere, but I can deal with it. I’ll be okay.” Y/N smiled up at him, and he desperately wanted to kiss her, wrap his arms around her, and protect her from the energy all around them. Y/N took his hand, and indicated which turn they should make next.

With Cas looking at the souls they passed, Sam sniffing the air, and Y/N sensing the emotions around them, it didn’t take long for them to get to the section of Hell they were looking for. Finding the portal took longer, since it was so well hidden, but Sam remembered what it looked like, so when they approached it, he saw it right away. Sam pushed through it, first, then pulled everyone else through. Once everyone was through, Cas pushed the rocks up against the portal again to cover their tracks, and Sam took Y/N into his arms.

“I was beginning to think I’d never feel you again,” Sam whispered into Y/N’s ear.

“I was beginning to think I’d never see you again,” Y/N whispered back. Y/N’s hands snaked around his neck and she pulled him down to her for a long kiss. Sam wanted to do nothing more than just stand there and kiss her, but he knew they weren’t out of danger, yet. He pulled away and looked down at her with his hands on her shoulders.

“We’re not safe, yet, sorry to say. Welcome to Purgatory.” Sam gave Y/N a wry smile and tried not to chuckle when her eyes widened.

“Purgatory? Like where….” Y/N’s voice trailed off as she turned to look at Dean and Cas, who had taken on defensive stances and were on guard against attack. She let her eyes roam the woods around them and sighed. “Monster Heaven. Okay. What’s next?”

Dean interrupted. “We keep an eye out for a bearded Cajun vampire on our way to the portal back topside. On the way, we kill anything that attacks. Keep moving and make heads roll, sister.” With that, Dean and Cas started walking, so Sam and Y/N followed.

While they walked, Y/N asked, so Dean told her about Benny. “I know, he told Sam he doesn’t fit topside, anymore, but if we see him, I want to try and convince him to come back, anyway. Things are different, now. Sam said he could accept him living with us at the bunker and even hunting with us, as long as he stays clean. He’d have a place in the world, if he wants it.” Sam watched Y/N smile at Dean and take his hand for a moment.

“Then we’ll just have to convince him,” she said with a smile. Sam watched Dean beam at Y/N right as a group of werewolves appeared in his peripheral vision. The skirmish was quick, with the men taking out all but one of the werewolves. Dean kept one alive long enough to ask about Benny, and after he got the answers he was looking for, he removed the wolf’s head. Dean and Cas chatted for a moment, Sam thought he heard something about Cas being able to fly here, then Cas disappeared. A few minutes later, Cas came back and nodded.

“He was there. He was surprised to see me, but said he’d make his way to the portal to meet us. I’m going to join him so I don’t attract Leviathan to us with Y/N here. I’ll make sure he gets there, Dean.” Cas patted Dean’s shoulder, and Dean gave Cas a tense smile.

“Thanks, man. See you there.” Cas disappeared, and the three of them started hiking.

There were a few more skirmishes, one with a small tribe of Amazons, which caused an interesting conversation after Dean spent a moment too long searching their faces before he swung at the first one attacking him. Sam didn’t see the face Dean was looking for, and neither did Dean, for which Sam was truly grateful. Benny could survive without killing, had done so before, and had a body to return to topside. After Sam had killed Emma, though, they had burned her body. Even if they hadn’t, Sam wasn’t sure an Amazon could survive without killing. In Sam’s mind, it was a question best left unasked.

Sam spent the rest of the hike through Purgatory telling Y/N about what Crowley had had them doing while she was locked up. Y/N didn’t say much, but the look on her face was thunderous.

As they approached the hill below the portal, Sam saw the portal’s light flashing above them. Part of him wanted to run towards it with Y/N, but part of him didn’t want to leave Dean behind, even for a moment. So, they stayed at the bottom of the hill and waited until Cas and Benny showed up.

Sam knew immediately when Dean saw Benny, because his face lit up like a Christmas tree. Sam turned around and saw the vampire and the angel approaching, and gave them both a smile. Benny and Dean embraced, and then Benny turned to Sam with his hand outstretched. Sam shook it, gladly, with a smile.

Dean patted Benny’s shoulder and turned him toward Y/N. “Benny, meet the girl that stole Sam’s heart, Y/N. Y/N, this is the buddy I was telling you about, Benny.”

Benny gave Y/N a very charming smile, took her hand, and kissed the back of it. “I can see why Sam fell so hard. It’s always a pleasure to meet a beautiful woman such as yourself, Y/N.” Sam watched Y/N smile and blush, and was glad when she decided to move back to his side where he could put his arm around her. Not that he was jealous of how the vampire so easily charmed his girlfriend or anything. It was for protection. _Yeah, protection._

Sam, Cas, and Y/N stayed quiet while Dean set his offer in front of Benny. In the middle of his speech, they were interrupted by a trio of Leviathan, which Dean, Cas, and Benny took out with ease, almost without interrupting their conversation. Sam wondered exactly how long Dean had spent fighting beside Benny before they had found Cas and then the portal. Obviously long enough to work well together. Sam came out of his reverie when he realized Benny was arguing.

“Dean, I told ya, brother, I’m better here. There’s no hunger here. I don’t have to belong to survive, but I can if I need to. Are you honestly telling me none of your hunter friends are going to have a problem with you hunting with a vampire? I seem to remember a certain friend of yours had a big problem with it, Dean. So big, he damn near killed my granddaughter just to get at me.”

“It’s different, now, Benny. We have a bunker. You’d have your own space. Sammy’s even on board with it, aren’t you, Sammy?”

Sam nodded and smiled at Benny. “Seriously, Benny, we’ll make it work. I didn’t understand before, but I do now, and I’m okay with it.”

Cas interrupted. “We need to go. There’s more coming.”

Dean sighed and then turned to Y/N. “Convince him, Y/N. Please.” Sam turned to Y/N to see what she’d do.

Y/N shook her head. “I’ll talk Dean, but I won’t push him. This is too big a deal for me to force him to do it, and you know that.” Sam almost chuckled at the look on Benny’s face when he considered Y/N “forcing” him to do anything. “Benny, I don’t know you, but I know these guys, and if they say they can make it work, they can make it work. They just rescued me from the King of Freaking Hell, who was holding me in Hell, and now I’m in freaking Purgatory, so you can’t tell me they can’t make a little social anxiety work itself out.” Y/N cocked her head to the side and raised an eyebrow at Benny while putting her free hand on her hip.

Benny barked a laugh while Sam, Dean, and Cas all chuckled. “A little social anxiety, you say, darlin’?” Benny laughed again, but was interrupted by Cas again.

“They’re almost here. We move now, or fight, and I can’t tell how many of them there are.”

Y/N was about to put her hand on Benny’s arm, but Sam saw her stop herself. “Come back with us. If it doesn’t work out, we can always kill you again, right?”

Benny shook his head and smiled. “I guess you’re right. All right. I’m comin’, brother.” Dean clapped a hand on Benny’s back, and all five of them turned towards the portal. Cas watched the approaching band of vampires get closer, while Dean cut open his arm and began the spell to trap Benny’s soul. Sam pushed Y/N towards the portal before going to help Cas.

“Go through the portal. Hank should be waiting somewhere on the other side! We’ll be right behind you!” Sam turned around and started to defend Dean while he was finishing the spell. After cutting off two vamp heads, he looked back and saw Y/N slip through the portal. With a sigh of relief, he returned to the task at hand, and so did Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BENNY!!! God, I miss that Louisiana drawl of his.


	41. Chapter 41

_You_

You stepped through the portal with a giant flash of bright light, and then you found yourself in the middle of a dark wood, pale sunlight filtering through the trees. _Hmph. From one creepy dark wood to another._ You decided it was better to stay put and wait for Sam to come through the portal than wander around and get lost, so you sat.

The time between when you came through the portal and when you saw the portal open up again seemed to drag on forever. First, you saw Cas, then Dean, then finally Sam. You breathed a huge sigh of relief, and rushed to greet them. Sam crushed you to his chest and held you tight for a long minute. When he finally loosened his hold, it was only to take your head in his hands and kiss you silly.

By the time Hank found you, the four of you had found Benny’s grave, and just needed a shovel to dig it up. When Hank arrived, he supplied the shovel, and the guys took turns digging. Hank was a little concerned about bringing a vampire back to life, but said he was willing to give Benny a chance if you liked him. You chuckled and let Hank know that Benny felt like a good guy to you, which was the truth. The Cajun drawl and charming manners could have hidden a lot from someone else, but you knew what you felt from Benny. Maybe he’d feel differently once he was back in the world again and dealing with hunger, but you hoped not.

When the digging was done, you watched with awe as Dean cast another spell and opened up his arm. Before long, Benny was standing in front of all of you, stretching his limbs and testing his fangs. The fangs gave you a slight fright, but then they disappeared and Benny smiled his most charming smile at you. Hank chose to stay by your side on the hike back to his truck, with Sam holding your other hand, and you basked a little in the overprotectiveness of both. You may be a strong woman capable of protecting yourself, but it was still nice to feel the affection of the mighty hunters around you.

A few moments later, you were glad for the protection when Crowley showed up in front of your group.

“So this is how you repay my hospitality, Y/N? I only had your best interests at heart, and you betrayed me. Your little escape released dozens of unruly demons from Hell, not to mention brought a vampire back from Purgatory?” Crowley looked dismissively at Benny and was keeping a cool façade, but you felt his disappointment and anger radiated to you.

“You know, Dean, I’ve never wanted to drink a demon before, figuring they probably taste as foul as they smell, but I’d be willing to look past the smell for this one.” Benny let his fangs loose and made a small move towards Crowley, but Dean held him back with a hand.

“Benny, meet Crowley, King of Hell. Don’t bother. I’m sure he’d leave a limey aftertaste.” Dean sneered at Crowley while Crowley rolled his eyes.

“Y/N, I hope you realize that this means you are no longer under my protection. I mean, I thought we were friends, but if you get in trouble again because of your insistence on associating with the Winchesters, I won’t be around to save you.” As Crowley spoke, he took a step towards you, and all five men responded with a step in kind.  You now had Cas, Dean, and Benny in front of you, with Sam and Hank on either side of you. Working to keep your emotions at bay, considering the feelings radiating off of Crowley, and knowing that you didn’t want to anger him further, you took a breath to gather your thoughts before you responded. Letting your anger out would only make things worse.

You took a half step towards Crowley, but Sam and Dean put a hand out to stop you. Accepting the wisdom of staying where you were, you relaxed, and focused on Crowley again. “I understand, Crowley, and I’m sorry I couldn’t… enjoy your hospitality as such. But I need you to understand that I love Sam, and I need to be with him. Not to mention you used me as leverage to get them to work for you! I’d have been more inclined to believe you had my best interests at heart if you hadn’t dangled me in front of them like a carrot on a stick and made them your delivery boys. You want me as a friend, but that’s not how a friend acts.” You were full-on glaring at Crowley, now, with your hands on your hips, and you were glad to feel a hint of shame coming off the demon, even though his face didn’t show it.

“Can’t fault a demon for taking advantage of the situation, my dear. I wouldn’t be King if I didn’t.” Crowley shrugged and turned as if to go, then turned back, tapping his index finger on his mouth before speaking again. “You know, there was a reason why those windows you broke were warded the way they were. The demons that escaped really aren’t demons you want running around loose. Don’t be surprised if business picks up because of it, and don’t expect me to help you clean up the mess.” Crowley pointed his finger at the group of you before turning around and disappearing.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Benny started chuckling. “Y/N, darlin’, did you just scold the King of Hell?”

You looked up at the vampire and shrugged. “Someone obviously has to!” You smiled and gave him a wink and he broke out laughing.

“I think you and me are gonna get along just fine, darlin’!” Benny clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave you a toothy grin, minus fangs, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm suddenly wondering how demons and other monsters would taste to a vampire. I wonder if there are any fics out there that explore that?


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we come to the end, with a little bit of smut to finish this story off. Just the Epilogue to go!

_You_

The trek back to the bunker was long and arduous. Hank’s car could just barely hold the six of you until you got to a motel, where there were only two rooms left, so there was no hope of privacy with Sam. You tried not to be grumpy, and just enjoyed being able to be next to him. The next day, Dean liberated a car from the diner where you ate breakfast, and he and Benny went off in search of bagged blood for Benny, promising to meet up with the rest of you at the bunker. The rest of the road trip was just continuous time in the car, with Cas driving through the night since he didn’t need sleep. Cuddling in the back seat with Sam was a special kind of torture, considering an angel with supersonic hearing was a couple of feet away. You tried to keep your hands mostly to yourself, and so did Sam, but you could feel how his body was reacting to yours, which made your body react right back, and it was all you could do to keep from rutting against each other. You both somehow got to sleep, but you woke up pressed against the hardness in Sam’s jeans. When you stopped for breakfast, you had plans to get Sam alone in a bathroom or something, but Hank and Cas seemed to choose just that time to start bickering about the fastest route and Sam ended up mediating. For the rest of the trip, Cas was relegated to the back seat with you, while Hank and Sam switched off driving.

When you pulled into the bunker’s garage, Hank’s eyes were wide. As you climbed out of the car, you gave Cas a pointed look while you pulled him aside.

“Cas, I would consider it a personal favor if you would be so kind as to show Hank around the bunker, help him find a bite to eat and something to drink, and lead him to a bedroom nowhere near mine and Sam’s. Can you do that for me?” You wiggled your eyebrows and nodded and smiled until Cas finally seemed to get the message and smiled in return.

“You want some privacy to engage in intercourse with Sam.” Cas gave you a triumphant smile, then winked and nudged your arm. “You got it.”

You closed your eyes and smiled, then shook your head and chuckled. “Thanks, Cas. You’re a… well... an angel.” You gave him an awkward pat on the shoulder, then grabbed Sam’s hand and dragged him away mid-sentence from whatever conversation he was having with Hank. Sam chuckled as he yelled the last of what he was saying to Hank as you pulled him down the hall towards the bedroom you had started sharing with Sam.

When you were both in the bedroom, you slammed the door shut, and Sam was on you in an instant. His lips found yours, his hands were pulling off your clothes, and neither of you seemed to mind that you were both road weary, wearing the same clothes you’d been wearing in Hell, and hadn’t showered since Maine.

“You know, I had such a hard time thinking about you watching me at night and not wanting to do something, knowing Crowley was probably watching, too.” Sam’s lips were on your neck while you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. In frustration, you pulled at the shirt with both hands and buttons went flying. Sam stopped kissing your neck for a second when he realized what you did, then shrugged and pulled off his undershirt while you shimmied your jeans off your hips and kicked off your shoes. As you removed your socks, Sam worked on his jeans, shoes, and socks, and then pushed you onto the bed.

Sam smirked down at you as he settled his hips between your thighs and resumed kissing your neck. “So, you wanted to give me a show, huh?” You moaned and nodded as he sucked the skin over your collarbone into his mouth and then licked at the spot. His lips moved down your chest to between your breasts, and as your back arched, he worked to unclasp your bra. When it was loose around you, he pulled it away from your skin with his teeth and nosed it away from your breast until he could take your nipple in his mouth. You pulled the bra off of your arms and sent it flying. As his mouth worked your nipple, his hips were grinding into your core, making you start moaning his name like a chant.

“What kind of show did you have in mind? Were you planning a strip tease for the cameras?” Sam was moving down your body, hands gripping your hips, tugging at your panties until he slid them from your legs. He slid back up your body, running one hand between your thighs and skimming lightly over your mound. His eyes caught yours, and the fierce look he gave you made your breath catch. “I’m glad you didn’t. Only I get to see all of this, you understand?” Sam’s hand ran lightly over your hip, then back between your thighs, until his fingers were caressing your folds. You nodded up at him, and as his fingers slid inside of you, his mouth met yours and his tongue invaded your mouth. As he pumped his fingers in and out of you, you grabbed onto his shoulders and squeezed, digging your fingernails into his skin. You moved one hand up to his hair and tugged on it until he moved his mouth down your jaw so you could breathe. His fingers picked up the pace, and palm pressed hard against your clit, causing your orgasm to come out of nowhere. You cried out Sam’s name as he worked you through it, your aftershocks sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body.

As you came down from your high, you were vaguely aware of Sam disposing of his boxers and resettling between your legs. He took one breast in his hand, palming and kneading it, then twisting and rolling your nipple. The other breast was in his mouth, and he sucked and nipped at it, then licked his tongue in circles around your nipple. When you started moving your hips against him again, he let go of your breast with his hand, and moved his mouth to your ear.

“You ready, baby?” Sam found that certain spot on your neck with his mouth and started working it with his lips and tongue.

“God, yes, Sam. I missed you so much.” You moved your hands down his back and grabbed the tender flesh of his ass with both hands. He lined himself up, and carefully pushed into you until he completely filled you. You shifted your hips up against him, then wrapped your legs around him, giving him a better angle. He started rocking into you, both of you moaning and groaning with each smooth thrust.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we got out of Purgatory, being inside you and feeling you all around me. God, baby, you feel so good. I don’t know how long I can last.” Sam’s words were graveled groans, his voice wrecked, as his hips kept thrusting. He moved one hand between you and started rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. “I’ve been so crazy for you, watching you on those screens and not being able to touch you and kiss you and feel you.” You felt yourself building up again, Sam hitting all the right spots and saying all the right words.

“Oh, Sam, I’m so close…” Sam started thrusting harder, and suddenly you felt bliss exploding through you again, wave after wave rocking you. Sam followed right after, his hips stuttering against you and drawing out your own pleasure. When he was finally spent, he held himself above you, resting his weight on his forearms, giving you lazy kisses and nuzzling your neck.

“I’m so crazy for you, Y/N. I have half a mind to lock you in here and never let you leave ever again. Whatever it takes to keep you safe and here, in my bed.”

You were running your hands up and down his back while he spoke, and when he was quiet, you shifted so he could lie down next to you with his head on your shoulder. Once he was settled, you stroked his hair and kissed his forehead. “I don’t think that’s entirely practical, but as long as you’re here, too, I’m willing to give it a try.”

Sam looked up at you and smiled. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Oh, saved the world a couple of times or so, that’s all.” You smiled down at Sam, and you both broke into giggles. “I love you, too, Sam Winchester.” You kissed his head and thanked whatever higher power brought such a beautiful and wonderful man into your life.


	43. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a time stamp in the future to see how Sam and Reader deal with his fears for her safety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by the series called "Not Unless Sam Says" by spectacularsammy. You can find it here: http://archiveofourown.org/series/185573 To me, there is something about the idea that Sam would need to find a way to control his fears and work out his frustrations, and that way would end up in the bedroom. My Sam and Reader are nowhere near the intensity of spectacularsammy's, so if you think this is a bit fluffy, head over there for better stuff!

Epilogue – One Year Later

_You_

“Y/N, you have to be more careful! If Benny hadn’t gotten to you in time, you would be dead right now!”

“Sam, you need to stop freaking out every time I get a scrape during a hunt. I’m a big girl and I can handle it.” You carefully stripped off your shirt, making sure not to hiss when the edges caught on the gash on your arm painfully. If Sam knew how much it hurt, it would only make it worse. “Now, go get the medical kit and stitch me up, Winchester. The faster you get me cleaned up, the faster you can toss me on the bed and have your way with me.” You gave Sam a smirk, and he sighed in frustration.

“I’m serious, Y/N. You took a chance back there by showing yourself to that shifter. The plan didn’t include you jumping out and calling him ‘string cheese.’”

Sam was pissed, and you knew it, which was why watching him try so hard not to laugh was so difficult for you. If you laughed, he’d get more pissed, but if you could keep yourself straight in the face of his conflicting emotions, then you might get out of this without serious repercussions. You held your face as still as you could and stayed quiet.

Sam started stitching up the cut on your arm, and you felt the fear rolling off of him, along with a thin sliver of amusement. As he worked, and slowly realized that the cut really wasn’t that bad, you felt the amusement slowly take over the fear.

“I mean, ‘string cheese???’ What the hell made you call him ‘string cheese’?” The corners of Sam’s mouth were twitching as he tried with all of his might not to show what he knew you could feel coming off of him.

“Well, you know, shifters kind of molt, taking off layers, in a way, and I was kind of hungry, and thinking about that string cheese I almost bought back at the Gas ‘N Sip, and it just seemed to fit, you know.” You shrugged the shoulder not connected to the arm Sam was working on and chewed hard on your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh. Sam finished up and put away the medical kit, shaking his head. You headed into the motel bathroom to wash the dried blood off of you, and looked over yourself for additional injuries. In spite of the cut on your arm, it really was a fairly uneventful hunt, with your cut being the only injury to anyone beyond scrapes and bruises.

Hunts like this one had become more commonplace recently. Your ragtag group of hunters had spent months hunting down the demons that escaped Hell with you, and things were finally getting back to normal. Benny enjoyed hunting certain monsters, now, since he discovered some of them were delicacies for a vampire. He still didn’t drink people, as he put it, but monsters were fair game.

This particular hunt had been frustrating from start to finish, though. The boys couldn’t get a solid fix on who or what was doing the killing, so Sam had reluctantly allowed you to do more than research this time. You had gone along to interviews and when you realized you were sitting across from the monster, himself, the plan was that you’d let the boys know and get out, as usual. You had given them your signal, made the excuses you needed to make to get out, and then waited by the car. And waited. And waited. When you heard the scuffle inside, you headed back inside, machete at the ready, to find Dean out cold on the floor, Benny stumbling, and the shifter choking Sam, Dean’s knife in his hand. So, you had done what you could to get the attention off of Sam. That, of course, led to the shifter then turning to you. In the few seconds it took for the shifter to let go of Sam and get to you, Benny had recovered, and he tackled the guy. In the confusion, somehow the shifter grazed your arm with Dean’s knife.

This wasn’t the first hunt where something along these lines had happened, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last. Handling Sam’s fear of losing you was getting easier for you, thank goodness. Over the course of the past year, you had both built up certain coping mechanisms. You constantly thought about little ways to make Sam laugh when these things happened. “String cheese” was just the latest example. If any part of Sam was laughing when he was angry and fearful, then you both would be fine. Sam’s coping mechanisms started and ended in the bedroom. He couldn’t control you, or what could happen to you, outside of those four walls, but inside, you were his.

You finished cleaning up in the bathroom, and headed back into the main part of the motel room where Sam had set out a snack. He gestured toward the table for you to sit, and when you did, he pushed a bottle of water and some peanut butter crackers towards you.

“You said you were hungry. Eat.” Sam voice was quiet, but commanding, and a little thrill curled in your stomach. Your reaction was absolutely Pavlovian, because he only used that voice in the bedroom. Some would say you were about to be punished, but you hated to think of it that way. You were just going to give Sam back the feeling that he had some control over your well-being. The two of you had worked out what you liked and what your limits were, and had finally found a happy place that suited you both.

The last hunt you had been involved with had been brutal, with you directly disobeying one of Sam’s orders, and ending up with you getting taken hostage. You hadn’t been able to make Sam laugh, either, so the drive back to the bunker had been quiet. When you got home, after you cleaned up, Sam laid out the plan. You had done something he had specifically told you he didn’t want you to do, which made him afraid of what would happen. In return, you would do something you had specifically told him you didn’t want to do, and it would make you afraid of what would happen. You could always safe word out, but you wanted to do this for him to help him work out his frustrations. So, you put on the vibrating panties and swore to wear them for a whole day. You weren’t allowed to hide in the bedroom, either. Sam wanted you training with Dean, cooking with Benny, and watching a movie with Cas, all while he had the remote. Like he had felt when you were a hostage, you spent the day uncomfortable, out of control, and afraid of when he would decide to push the button. By the end of the day, you had been so worked up, Sam barely touched you before you had one of the fiercest orgasms of your life. It was a rough day, but at the end of it, you both felt better.

As you finished your crackers and water, you wondered what Sam had in mind this time. Since you’d made him laugh, you hoped the vibrating panties were off the table. The thought of spending the drive back to the bunker with them on didn’t thrill you. Benny’s vampiric sense of smell and hearing meant he’d caught some of your games in the past, and he’d be sure to catch you if you were all trapped in the car together.

Sam seemed to read your mind as he took your trash and tossed it in the can. “Although you did do something I specifically didn’t want you to do, I’m not going to make you wear the panties in the car for the drive home. There’s no way Benny’s going to save you this time, Y/N.”

You fought the urge to smirk and shrug, knowing that would simply anger Sam more. “Thank you, Sam,” you said quietly. Waiting to hear what he was going to do this time practically had you squirming in your seat, already, but you managed to sit still.

Sam settled in the chair across from you, sitting back with his legs outstretched. “Stand up by the bed and strip.”

You stood up, and slowly and carefully stripped off your clothing until you were standing by the bed, naked. You kept your eyes down because it was easier for you to do whatever Sam wanted if you weren’t looking in his eyes. If he wanted you to look at him, he’d tell you. You stifled a shiver from the air conditioning, knowing that you’d be plenty warm before long.

“Using both of your hands, I want you to play with your nipples until they’re perky like I like them.” Your breath caught a little, but you raised your hands and started massaging your breasts, taking special care to pinch and roll your nipples the way Sam would. It wasn’t long before you were biting back little whimpers and squeezing your thighs together. If you had still been wearing panties, you would be soaking them by now.

“I know your special talent is being quiet, Y/N, so I want to hear you. Make those pretty sounds you know I like, baby.” Your eyes flew to Sam’s face, and the smoldering smirk on it made a moan escape you before you could even think of holding it back. Sam was right. Sneaking around when you were in high school had helped you perfect the art of being quiet. Sam had taken advantage of that a few times, too. But now, Sam wanted to hear you.

When Sam heard your moan, his smirk increased, and when you let your eyes fall from his face, you saw what it was doing to him through his jeans. He was carefully keeping his hands on his thighs, but the bulge was growing, and his fingertips were white from trying to control his hands. You brought your attention back to yourself, and imagined it was Sam’s hands on your breasts instead of yours. Feeling a shot of desire land between your thighs, you moaned again, louder this time. You heard Sam shift in his chair, and sneaked a peek at him. Now, his hands were almost twitching.

“Spread your legs a little, baby. I want you slide one hand down and feel how wet you are. I know you’re wet right now, but I want to know how wet.” Sam’s voice was getting raspy, and you knew how much this was turning him on. You let your hand fall from your breast to down between your legs, and you gave yourself just a tentative swipe with your fingers. The touch was a welcome relief and even more of a tease, all at the same time. You moaned a little louder and let your eyes shut.

“Open your eyes, Y/N. I want to see you while you touch yourself.” You opened your eyes and brought them back up to Sam’s face. You were gently caressing your folds, now, trying to avoid your clit, but spreading your wetness around. Sam had a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, and you were warm enough that you felt flushed all over. You watched Sam’s face as his eyes went from your hand on your breast to your hand between your legs, and then he took a shuddering breath. Knowing what this was doing to him was turning you on almost more than what you were doing to yourself.

“Show me how wet you are, Y/N. Come over here and let me see those fingers.” You pulled your hand from between your legs and took the two steps to stand next to Sam. You showed him your fingers, and he let out a little whimper before taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth. His eyes met yours as he sucked your fingers clean, and you thought your knees would give out as a ragged moan left you. His tongue worked between your fingers, and all you could imagine was that your fingers were your folds. Your brain almost short-circuited, with the only thoughts left being Sam’s tongue on your body, licking your nipples, flicking your clit, and fucking into you. Sam’s eyes were completely dark, now, the ring of hazel almost completely gone as he listened to your moans.

He let go of your hand, and sat back again. “I want you to sit in my lap, your legs straddling mine.” You spread your legs as you took the final step towards him, putting both of his legs in between yours, and then you moved to sit. As you were sitting, he spread his legs just a bit, spreading yours even further, so you were completely open to him. Your ass was balanced almost precariously on his knees, your knees on either side of his thighs.

“Comfortable?” You nodded. “Good. Now, touch yourself again, but this time, don’t avoid your clit, baby. I want to hear you moan, and feel your hips buck like they do when I’m sucking on it.” Your eyes widened, but you obeyed, putting your hand back between your legs and rubbing your clit. There was no stopping your moans, now, as you felt the ache in your stomach turn into a throb. As you circled and rubbed, your hips bucked and twitched. You tried to close your eyes again, but Sam stopped you.

“Eyes open, baby. And that hand on your breast is slowing down on the job. I know you can multi-task.” You were near to panting, now, the coil in your belly starting to tighten and your moans turning to curses.

“Sam… I’m getting close…” Trying desperately to keep your eyes open while the waves of excitement washed over you, you saw Sam start to palm the bulge in his pants, and he was panting almost as hard as you were. Just when you thought he wasn’t going to stop you, he did.

“All right, stop, Y/N. Hands on your thighs.” You immediately put both of your hands on your thighs, palms down. Sam took the hand that had been between your thighs and licked it clean, eyes gazing into yours while he licked and sucked. You slowly felt your breath even out and your heart slow back to normal as he put your hand down.

“Very good, Y/N. I wish you could always be this good in following instructions. If you were, then maybe we’d be gearing up for round two right about now.” Sam pulled his own hand away from his pants and he took a deep breath. “Stand up again.” You got up off of his lap, and stood in front of him again. He stood up with you and looked down at you steadily.

“Undress me. Slowly. Take your time.” You reached up and slowly slid his plaid overshirt off of his shoulders. You made sure to press your body up against his as you reached behind him to slide it off of his arms. When it was off, you folded it carefully, and laid it on top of his duffel, which was on the floor, making sure you bent over double with him behind you. You heard him gasp and smiled. You turned around, and slowly pulled his undershirt out of his pants and over his head. Again, you folded it carefully, and placed it on top of his duffel, again hearing Sam catch his breath. As you removed his belt, you kept your eyes on his, only dropping them to roll the belt up and leave it on the pile. Before you popped the button on his jeans, you ran the tips of your fingers along the waistband, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin against your fingertips. That was almost as much of a tease for yourself as it was for him, and he knew it. You loved touching him and feeling his muscles twitch under his skin. Once you popped the button and slid down the zipper, you pushed his jeans down to his ankles. His shoes and socks were already discarded, so you got on your knees and helped him step out of his jeans. You folded his jeans while you knelt before him, your face dangerously close to the tent in his boxers, which was topped with a distinct wet spot. You studiously ignored it, though, pretending to be involved in your task. When the jeans were folded and put aside, you decided to be bold, and ran your hands up the back of his legs until they were underneath his boxers, cupping his ass. He instinctively moved his hips closer to your head, and you looked up at him with the question in your eyes. He remained stoic, though, not answering. You slid your hands under the waistband of his boxers, moved your hands to his front with your arms threaded through them with his legs, and slowly pulled his boxers down over his straining erection. Though you were so close you could reach the tip of his cock with your tongue, you ignored it as you slid his boxers down his legs and removed them. When they were folded and sitting on top of the pile of clothes, you stayed on your knees, hands on your thighs. You were dying to feel him in your mouth and make him as crazy as he was making you, but you knew you had to wait.

“Y/N, are you hoping I’ll tell you to suck my cock?” You looked up at Sam with a whimper and nodded. “You like doing that for me, don’t you?” You nodded again with a smile. “Since you were bad today and didn’t listen, do you think you deserve to do something you like doing?” You shook your head no and dropped your eyes. “I didn’t think so.” Sam took a breath. “I don’t think I should have to give up getting my cock sucked, though, so how about a compromise?” You looked back up at Sam and saw a mischievous gleam in his eye. _Oh, boy._ “How about you play with your clit again for a couple of minutes, get your fingers nice and wet, baby. And don’t forget to make those pretty noises I like.”

Feeling a flush on your cheeks, you dipped your hand back between your legs and started rubbing again. The dull ache that had settled in the pit of your stomach roared to life again, and it wasn’t long before you were moaning and panting, your hips moving against your hand. When your moans turned to pleas, Sam stopped you again.

“Hands off, Y/N. Now, take those wet fingers and stroke my cock with them.” You pulled your hand from between your legs and took Sam’s cock in your hand. It was hard as steel, and you licked your lips as you moved your hand up and down the length of it. After a stroke or two, you dipped your fingers back between your folds, getting them wetter, and put your hand back on Sam’s cock. Sam let out a groan when he watched you do that, and you felt him twitch in your hand. His hips were thrusting ever so slightly into your hand, sweat was dripping down his forehead, and his hands were balled into fists at his sides.

“Stop,” he said, with a gasp. You immediately put your hands back down on your thighs, while you watched him take deep breaths with his eyes closed. After several breaths, he opened his eyes and looked down at you. “No sucking, no hands, but you can lick. Lick me clean, baby.” You got your mouth close to his cock and moaned. _No sucking, no hands._ Doing your best to keep eye contact with him, you reached out with your tongue and began to lick him like an ice cream cone. The noises Sam made as your tongue dragged up and down his length threatened to restart the throbbing between your legs. You started moaning with him as you tasted the mixture of yourself and him together. When all that was left was what was leaking out of him, he pulled your head from him with his hand and took a step back.

“Your knees must be aching by now. Go lay down on the bed.” You stood up and moved over to the bed, laying down in the middle of it on your back with your head on the pillows. Sam followed you, spread your legs, and settled between them, his mouth directly above the junction of your thighs. He slid his hands beneath you, cupping your ass and lifting your hips, and then licked a deep stripe right up your folds. Like when you licked him clean, he didn’t use his hands, and he never sucked, but he licked every oversensitive part of you, even thrusting his tongue inside of you until your hips were bucking, you were grasping the sheets with your fists, and chanting his name. When you thought he was finally going to let you come, he pulled his head away. He left a trail of light kisses on your inner thighs and mound while you came down, moaning and cursing.

“Please, Sam. Please, I need to come. I need you, Sam.” You were writhing on the bed, now, feeling like nothing more than a giant ball of need and desire.

Sam smirked, but shook his head. “And I needed you to stay outside today, but you didn’t.”

Sam sat up, running his hand down your legs. “Now, to take care of those aching knees.” He didn’t start with your knees, though. He started at your feet, rubbing each one just the way he knew you liked it, then moving to your ankles and up your legs. He slowly rubbed every muscle, relaxing them, and then moving up a little farther. When he got to your thighs, you thought he might use his fingers to thrust inside of you, or at least circle your clit, but he didn’t. Your hips bucked up at the thought, though, and he gave out a low chuckle. His hands moved to your hips, pressing and stroking, and then slid up your sides past your breasts to your shoulders and down each arm, being careful of the cut on your arm. When he got to your hands, he massaged each finger, and then sucked each one into his mouth until you were panting and moaning again. When he was done with your hands, he laid them down on your thighs, then leaned over you and littered kisses across your forehead and down your face, until his lips met yours. He kissed you deeply, his tongue dominating your mouth, moaning with you, but pushing your hands back to your thighs when you tried to reach for him. His mouth finally left yours and traveled down your jaw to your neck, where he worked on a making trail of marks along your collarbones. When he was satisfied with the necklace of light marks he had made, he slid his lips down between your breasts to your navel.

“So beautiful. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you, Y/N.” Sam was speaking so low, you almost couldn’t hear him. You reached up and stroked his hair, smiling at him.

“I love you, Sam, and I’m not going anywhere.” Sam rested his forehead on your stomach, his lips close to your navel, while his hands stayed at your sides, his thumbs rubbing your skin.

“I know you’d never leave me intentionally, but I could have lost you today.” Sam’s words were almost pressed into your skin while you stroked his hair. You tried to pull his face up to look at you, but he resisted.

“Look at me, Sam.” Slowly, he raised his eyes to yours. “You could lose me crossing the street, but I understand what you’re saying, and I’m sorry I didn’t listen. How about instead of focusing on what could have happened, we focus on what’s happening right here and now?” You tugged his head towards yours, and he reluctantly moved up to cover your body with his, his hips between your legs, his arousal trapped between you. You pulled his head down and gave him a dirty kiss, all teeth and tongue and moans, and soon he was grinding his hips into yours and panting along with you.

“Oh, baby, I want to feel you come around me.” Sam quickly lined himself up and pushed inside of you, grunting when you bucked your hips up to meet his.

“Holy hell, Sam, you feel so good!” You started trying to move your hips against his, but he kept you pinned to the mattress for what felt like eternity before he started moving at a glacial pace. Very slowly he pulled out and pushed back in again, making you whine and whimper and beg for him to move faster, push harder, give you the friction you wanted. It didn’t take long for you to get to the edge, even with his slow pace.

“Sam, I’m so close…” you gasped, still almost fighting him with your hips.

“Don’t you dare come until I say so, Y/N.” You struggled to hang on, trying to distract yourself with facts about ghouls and shifters and every other disgusting monster you had encountered in the past year. No matter how hard you tried, though, the smell of Sam was all around you, the feel of his muscles beneath your fingertips and all of him now slamming into you, and it was intoxicating.

“Sam, I don’t think I can hold out much longer… feel so good, baby… have to come…” Sam was pumping hard into you, now, and as an added torture, he reached between you and stated rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“All right, let go, baby. I want to feel you,” he grunted, his head falling into your shoulder as he felt you let go.

Every muscle in your body seemed to spasm with pleasure as your orgasm ripped through you. Wave after wave of intense bliss rocked you, and after a couple more thrusts, you felt Sam release, too. You kept rocking together until your aftershocks slowed down and he groaned from the oversensitivity. He held himself over you, leaning on his forearms, and kissed you slowly, and you made little happy noises between each kiss. He eventually settled beside you on the bed, pulling you close to him and nuzzling into your hair.

“Feel better, now, honey,” you asked quietly, running your hand along his arm that was slung over you.

“Much,” he replied, giving you a little kiss on your shoulder.

You both stayed like that for a while before you heard Sam’s stomach start to rumble. With a chuckle, you both got up and headed into the shower, which turned into round two. When you were finally showered and dressed again, you met up with Dean and Benny in their room for dinner.

Benny gave you a smirk as you walked in the door, making you blush. He elbowed you a little and leaned in to speak softly in your ear. “You finally get him calmed after what happened today, or am I gonna have to put up with your games on the drive home?” You chuckled and smiled at the vampire, giving him a nod. “Good, ‘cause darlin’, it’s a long drive back to the bunker for me to be pretendin’ I don’t know what’s happenin’ just to save us from one of Dean’s hissy fits about you messing up the seats in his car.” You and Benny both chuckled and smiled, Benny giving you a little wink.

As you all sat down with the pizza Dean had ordered, you felt the vibration in your pocket as “Sympathy for the Devil” rang out from your phone. Everyone at the table grimaced, with Sam’s reaching epic levels. You pulled out your phone and set it on the table, answering the call with one of your few clean fingers.

“Whatcha want, Crowley?” Even though you had refused his protection/kidnapping scheme, Crowley still seemed to have a soft spot for you. Or, he just really loved pissing off Sam by pretending he did. Either way, you were still his liaison to the Winchesters.

“Can’t a friend just call to say hello, love? It’s been so long, I thought perhaps I should check in and see if you’d finally come to your senses and ditched Moose, yet.” Benny shook his head and stifled a chuckle, Dean stiffened, and Sam almost growled.

“Not a chance, Crowley, but thanks for your concern. I’ve got you on speaker phone and the gang’s all here, so what’s up?”

“I heard your feathered friend has been off dealing with Darkness-related matters. You might want to call him in on this, especially since it’s partly his problem, too. The last group of demons you let loose last year has surfaced, and it’s not pretty. I’ll text you the details. Clean up your mess.”

All three men started to argue, but Crowley had already hung up.

“What the hell, does he think we work for him or something?” Dean groused while he wiped his mouth with a napkin and threw it at the empty pizza box.

“We made the mess, Dean, we need to clean it up.” Even though you had long given up the idea that Crowley could be a good guy, somehow you still managed to always end up defending him. The worst part was, Crowley knew it, and always managed to work you into situations where he knew you would defend him. You shook your head and tried to ignore the storms brewing on Sam’s face by focusing on the job to be done. “Well, I guess we hit the hay and get started early tomorrow morning. I’ll forward the info to all of you and Cas when it comes in.”

The four of you cleaned up the trash, and you and Sam headed back to your room. Once you were there, Sam pulled you to his chest and hugged you tightly.

“I hate how Crowley keeps coming to you. Worse, I hate how he manages to make you defend him.” Sam scowled, but kissed your head.

“I hate it, too, but you know what I love?” You looked up at Sam with a smile.

“What?” Sam was still giving off grumpy vibes along with an epic bitch face.

“You.”

Sam’s eyes flew back to yours as he smiled. He leaned down to give you a sweet kiss, then held you close again, his hand stroking your hair.

“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”


End file.
